A Love Like This
by ImpishParody
Summary: Harry and his friends are returning to Hogwarts for a revision year after the war. What will happen when Harry and Draco are forced to share a room under the new plans for house unity? Slash and lemon included. Not epilogue compliant. FINALLY UPDATED!
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings:**There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

* * *

The seemingly never-ending rain pelted down from the darkening sky in sheets of steely-grey menace, ice-cold droplets stubbornly soaking anything and everything they happened to come into contact with. The vast expense above was frequently illuminated as bolts of lightening streaked the inky blackness; eerily devoid of stars, but the ever-present moon loomed; a white orb floating ghostly in the emptiness above as raindrops continued to beat downwards; seemingly increasing their intent to bruise an unfortunate victim as the storm wore on miserably and the wind howled alarmingly outside.

It was a sharp contrast to the atmosphere inside the recently restored Great Hall of Hogwarts. Everywhere there were screams of delight and exclamations of happiness and contentment from the wet students, as old friends were spotted and reunited; sharing stories of their summers; reminiscing about times they had recently shared together in the great stone castle; and quietly lamenting the loss of friends who were no longer there to join the start of term celebrations.

The usual too-many-to-count number of candles floated merrily in the air; lighting the huge hall that danced happily in the flickering glow of the many flames; the stone walls rebuilt and standing proud and solid as ever, were emblazoned with giant banners of the house colours and emblems; the Hogwarts crest once more hung pride of place above the teacher's table at the head of the room, giving those who cast a quick glance up at it, a sense of pride and belonging again.

In amongst the happiness however, there was a rather small collection of older students; gazing around at the halls that had housed them for seven long years. The fifteen or so ex-seventh years glanced around at the mass of people; feeling greatly out-numbered. It had been their year that had suffered most in the war. Countless had died during the fighting and the number of witches and wizards they had taken classes with since the age of eleven had dwindled dramatically. They silently mourned the loss of their departed friends as they looked around at the happy reunions; thankful for the ones they had left as they glanced at each other and smiled smiles that conveyed the swirling emotions they felt to the people closest to their hearts.

The teachers began filling the empty chairs at the head of the hall and students dispersed to their respective house tables; reluctantly cutting off the topics they had been discussing as the chatter died down, in favour of sitting on the long wooden benches and looking up expectantly at the door to the right of the hall through which the scared-looking, tiny, new first years trooped, lead by a portly Professor Sprout; her face beaming down at the new arrivals as she carried in the famous three-legged stool and the old and weathered Sorting Hat, placing the latter gracefully on the former before turning and unrolling a long scroll of parchment.

Harry let his eyes glaze over as the Sorting began; no longer caring much for the event that would separate the large number of small pupils into the four rival houses for the rest of their school career. He was always proud when a new Gryffindor was welcomed into the house, but he felt the divisions between the small communities that developed as a result of tonight's events were too wide; too full of competition and mistrust now. He missed Dumbledore's wise and long-winded speeches about house unity.

The Sorting drew to a close; the school applauding a tiny blond boy whom was sorted into Ravenclaw as Harry and Ron's stomachs gave particularly audible rumbles. They glanced at each other and grinned while Hermione threw them both exasperated scowls, her fingers entwined with Ron's as the boys eagerly awaited the imminent moment when food would finally appear on the golden plates before them.

Headmistress McGonagall stood elegantly, the move commanding silence from the murmuring students. She looked over her charges for the year, smiling gently down at them with her thin mouth; the war had aged her, but also eased her temperament slightly.

"Welcome and welcome back everyone." Her voice was the same as Harry remembered, clipped and short; but there was a new edge of warmth that seemed to soften the harsh woman now. "It's good to see so many of our students returning, and I'm glad to have such a good turn out of new pupils in our First Year. I think I shall leave the rest of this speech until after the feast; you all look rather hungry." She smiled again and sat down as the golden tableware filled with the day's work of the Hogwarts kitchen staff.

Harry and Ron piled their plates high, Ron even graciously fetching food for Hermione, pecking her cheek as he served her and grinning as she turned a light shade of pink. Harry found his mind and gaze wandering as the pair descended into playfully feeding each other bites and morsels of food; coming to rest on a sleek blond head over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy sat, head bowed as he mumbled to Zabini Blaise and Pansy Parkinson. The famous arrogant smirk did not cross his face once as Harry stared over at the trio talking humbly to one another.

-x-

_Harry hurried down Diagon Alley, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone; he still caused a great deal of commotion in the wizarding world, even though the war had ended over eight weeks ago. He wished people would stop paying him special attention and acting like he was the hero who had saved them all; there had been others helping him all the way. He didn't want constant praise, endless ceremonies held in his honour and countless awards. And he certainly didn't want the incessant attention from the press who seemed to be waiting around every corner for him and taking his photo every five minutes. He hated interviews; they always seemed to twist his words to make him sound like some kind of noble, brave hero. Couldn't they see he just wanted to be left alone, in peace; that he was an ordinary boy who'd been handed an extraordinary fate?_

_Lost in mutinous thoughts, he didn't notice the other person progressing down the street at his own rushed pace, heading straight towards him; head also bowed against being recognised. They collided and Harry looked up, startled and began apologising profusely - until he recognised the person he had crashed into._

"_Malfoy." He voiced his recognition in a curt tone, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. The other had grown slightly taller than him since the last time Harry had set eyes on the blond, now standing half a head taller than himself; Harry noted with a twinge of irritation. Malfoy had also allowed his hair to grow out, the ends now gently curling just above his collar and his eyes were still the same shade of striking grey Harry had never seen imitated on anybody else._

_Malfoy inclined his head towards Harry in a reluctant action of polite acknowledgement. "Potter."_

_Harry's eyes narrowed further – Malfoy was never polite to him. Ever. _

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_I expect the same thing as you, Potter, shopping for the books I shall require for this year's revision schooling."_

_Harry blinked. That was it? No sneer? No sarcastic comment? He briefly wondered if this was not indeed Draco Malfoy, but someone who had taken Polyjuice Potion in order to either get a statement from him for the latest Prophet article about the war, or someone trying to kidnap him, but dismissed the idea when he realised that someone intent on either of those things wouldn't disguise themselves as his worst enemy. He blinked again._

"_What's wrong Potty? Cat got your tongue?" Ah. That was the Malfoy he knew._

"_I didn't know you would be returning for this year?"_

_Malfoy stiffened._

"_Yeah, well… I'm not in Azkaban, am I? Why shouldn't I return to Hogwarts?" His voice was defensive, a little of the famous sneer starting to work its way back on to Malfoy's pointed features._

"_I – uh… That wasn't what I meant…" Harry tailed off lamely, a little taken aback at how Malfoy had taken his inquiry; was he really that worried that people would treat him as a Death Eater? He hadn't really done anything besides look scared and fetch and carry things…It hadn't come as a great surprise to Harry when he hadn't been convicted as one during the trials._

_Malfoy scowled at him. "Well, what did you mean Potter?"_

"_I just meant that I didn't actually know you needed to come back for this year Malfoy. You were at Hogwarts last year." Harry cringed as the last sentence sounded like an accusation; Malfoy hadn't been tortured and sliced open like his friends had._

"_There were no examinations last year. No NEWTS. The war sort of interrupted normal school procedure, in case you didn't notice."_

_It was Harry's turn to scowl in reply to Malfoy's comment; having no words he deemed fit enough to say in public, and punching the blond in the face usually didn't go down too well._

_Malfoy seemed to realise the road they were headed down and scooped up the small pile of books he had been carrying, lying forgotten on the ground as he and Harry talked. "Sorry, Potter." He bit out._

_Harry blinked in surprise and confusion for the third time during this little discussion. "Err… No problem." It was awkward standing here and receiving an apology from his enemy. They stood in silence for a few moments, neither boy knowing what to say to the other; they were too used to hurling insulting and punches at each other; normal conversation was out of the equation by this point and neither knew how to carry one off with the other._

"_Well… I better get going." Malfoy said, finally. He adjusted his books in his arms and made to move off._

"_Yeah… Err… I'll see you around I guess…" Harry mumbled as he made his way towards 'Flourish and Blotts' to purchase the same books Malfoy had just been carrying._

_-x-_

That short meeting had had Harry wondering about Malfoy ever since. He had definitely changed, but Harry wasn't sure why, or in what way. He couldn't figure out if the war had weakened Malfoy, or made him into a better, and hopefully more polite and less arrogant person. And why, all of a sudden, was Malfoy being civil to _him _of all people? Surely they had enough history by now for everyone else to realise that they were never going to be anything less than rivals? The thought disgruntled Harry for some bizarre reason and he put it down to not wanting to have to fight with someone constantly now that Voldemort was dead.

Malfoy glanced up - having felt eyes on him for a prolonged period of time - and Harry looked away as grey and green connected; realising he had been staring, and felt his cheeks redden. He ate his way through the rest of the meal, chatting quietly to anyone who started a conversation with him and stubbornly refusing to look over at the blond seated at the Slytherin table; who he could have sworn had turned the same colour as he had done when their gazes connected.

The feast eventually drew to a close when the last of the dessert plates had been cleared and Headmistress McGonagall rose to her feet once more. She spoke for a while about the values of Hogwarts, encouraging the students to put aside old rivalries and try and make the school function as a whole body. There was a short explanation for those who had not read their letters about everyone repeating the year they had studied last term, as exams could not be carried out and lessons had been infrequent and rarely attended by all students registered for the class. There was a brief speech of the war and a minute's silence held in respect for the ones they had lost, and after the usual start of term notices about the Forbidden Forest, banned items and no magic in the corridors; she dismissed the school, save for the small group of students who looked too old to be there.


	2. A Plan in Motion

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings:**There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

* * *

The old Transfiguration teacher motioned the group of her old students over to the Hufflepuff table and once they were all seated; she stood to join them as the other teachers vacated the hall. Clustered in a tightly knit group they all leaned forward to hear what she had to say; Harry noticing that the three remaining Slytherins stayed slightly further back than everyone else, looks expressing their discomfort crossing their faces.

"I trust you all noted the speech about school unity I introduced this year?" There were nods and murmurs of agreement as the students expressed their support for the idea. "Good, good. Now, I know that this year group above all others has come to learn the effect that division can have upon us…" She glanced around sympathetically at the ones who had suffered major losses during the war and continued, "So, I've decided to try out a little something on this group to see if Hogwarts should try and implement this idea further; if you'll all agree?" Again, more nods and quietly voiced consent. "Excellent." She smiled a true smile that, although small, made each one of them relax just a little more. "For the rest of the year, you will no longer be sleeping in your house dormitories, but in your own small private quarters shared with one or two other students from the same year. All rooms will be located in converted classrooms on the third floor and roommates have already been assigned; you'll be living in much closer proximity to your classmates than before. Hopefully, this will cause your group become even closer throughout the year. If this experiment works; Hogwarts will consider implementing this idea for some of the lower years too."

Harry felt his heart sink. 'Shared with one or two other students'? He knew exactly who he'd been placed with and although he loved them both, the prospect of sharing a room with Ron-and-Hermione for an entire year wasn't appealing. Everyone else looked happy with the idea, but he felt a sense of impending doom. Malfoy, he noticed, had the same look on his face that he was pretty sure had appeared on his own; judging from the way Hermione was looking curiously over at him from Ron's lap.

He smiled at her to dispel any worries she had about him as their Headmistress pulled out a scroll of parchment and began to read out names and room numbers. Slowly the hall emptied as their friends left for their new sleeping quarters in twos and threes. Finally, there were just six of them left: Malfoy, Blaise, Parkinson, Hermione, Ron and himself. Harry tensed slightly; fully expecting his own name to follow Ron's and Hermione's when they were read out, but it did not. McGonagall looked at them expectantly when they did not move.

"But… But, what about Harry?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Mr. Potter has his own roommate, Miss Granger. Now, off too bed if you please."

The couple blinked and stood; throwing Harry confused looks over their shoulders, which he returned, as they headed out of the hall. McGonagall read out two more names and Malfoy experienced the same shock as Harry had done when he did not hear his own name repeated after Blaise and Parkinson's. They left the Great Hall holding hands and whispering as Harry and Malfoy stared at each other.

Headmistress McGonagall hid a smile as she looked sternly down at the two boys who looked dangerously close to being outraged. "I trust that your excellent powers of deduction have lead you to the conclusion that you two will be sharing room?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Err… Yes." Harry said bemusedly at the same moment as Malfoy asked, "Why?"

McGonagall looked at them. "Because, as I stated earlier, house unity cannot occur if our older students persist with silly rivalries that are nothing more than a simple refusal of friendship and a difference in opinions that occurred over seven years ago." And with that, she was a grey tabby cat scurrying up to the Headmistress' office.

Both boys stared at each other silently as Hermione and Ron poked their heads back round the door.

"Harry, what's going o-"

"HIM! You're being forced to share with HIM?!" Ron pointed, taking this news apparently worse than either Harry or Malfoy had done themselves. Harry said nothing but confirmed Ron's belief with a confused nod while Malfoy sat silently and looking highly uncomfortable at being surrounded by three Gryffindors, one of which looked happy enough to cheerily send several painful curses his way any second.

"Oh Harry! It's alright, you can share with us," Hermione said, brightly, "I'm sure there's just been a bit of a mix up, we can sort it out tomorrow."

"It wasn't a mix up." Three heads turned to look at Malfoy in disbelief. The blond looked at Harry and his friends. "She wanted us to solve our problems by forcing us to live together. I'm sure she wouldn't have done it if she thought either of us would end up in the hospital wing more than once." He rose elegantly and stalked off to his and Harry's new room.

Ron snorted. "Harry mate, we'll help move your stuff, right 'Mione?"

"Oh, umm… Well… If McGonagall wanted Harry and Malfoy to solve their problems…"

"S'alright Ron. I'm pretty sure I can handle him." Harry grinned up at his best friends, "Afterall, I'm a big boy now." He laughed, hiding his doubts about his situation and headed up to the third floor with his friends.

Harry bid goodnight to a concerned Ron and Hermione as they reached the door of the room he had been assigned to with Malfoy.

"I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow morning, alright mate?" He said to Ron.

Ron grinned. "Yeah, not Malfoy though. You're gonna hex him while he's sleeping, right Harry?"

"Ronald!" Hermione looked shocked as she turned to stare at her boyfriend. "Harry would _never_ do such a thing, would you Harry?"

Harry grinned mysteriously as he waved the two of them away; placing his hand on the brass doorknob of Room Eight and taking a breath as he prepared to spend the remainder of the night in the same room as Draco Malfoy. He twisted it and heard the heavy click as the great wooden door swung open. Stepping inside carefully, he was slightly wary of just what was waiting inside for him as he closed the door with a rather loud "thunk".

He let his eyebrows rise into his hairline as he took in his new surroundings. The room was octagonal in shape, and to his right, his own Gryffindor four-poster had been placed against the stone wall; his heavy trunk lying at the foot of the red hangings. A large dresser had been placed against the next wall and directly opposite him there were two desks below a large window, two comfortable-looking armchairs in royal blue and a black, stone fireplace. To his left was Malfoy's four-poster bed; its dark green hangings complementing the deep blue rugs on the floor and the heavy velvet curtains which hung around the window above the work desks; currently pulled shut against the moonlight. Malfoy's trunk lay open on his bed and the boy himself was currently neatly putting away his robes and textbooks in his own dresser.

"Wow…."

Malfoy glanced up at Harry's voice, "What?" He inquired in a sharp tone, paused in his action of lifting more robes out of his trunk.

"This isn't bad, is it?"

Malfoy snorted and Harry remembered that he still lived in the Malfoy Manor; his own bedroom was probably twice this size. He controlled himself and his snappy reply; determined not to fight with the boy he would be sharing a room with for the rest of the year. For tonight, at least.

Both boys unpacked their belongings in an uncomfortable silence before finally pulling off their robes and donning their pyjamas, careful to avoid each other's eyes as they undressed. As they climbed and settled into bed, Harry was surprised to hear Malfoy's voice coming from his left:

"Why did you look like that when you thought you would be placed in a room with Weasley and Granger?"

Harry was confused. "Look like what?" He inquired, expecting a sarcastic and sneering reply.

"Like you'd rather share a room with the Giant Squid if it meant you didn't have to watch constant public displays of affection."

Harry felt a small smile pull at his lips and replied "I could ask you the same question."

Malfoy had been expecting something like that. He knew that Harry wasn't likely to share any personal information unless he offered some of his own first.

"Just didn't fancy watching Parkinson and Blaise play 'house' all year and feeling like a third wheel I suppose."

Harry blinked; a little stunned by Malfoy's honesty. "Pansy and Blaise? Really?"

Malfoy nodded in the darkness. Harry exhaled in surprise as he leaned back against his pillows. "Same reason, I guess. Hermione and Ron are my best friends; but they can get a little too much sometimes. I feel like I'm in the way…"

Malfoy nodded in agreement as the conversation petered out into silence again. "Well… Good night…" He said awkwardly as he pulled his green hangings shut around him.

"Night…" Said Harry as he closed his own scarlet ones, still a little in shock that he and Malfoy actually had something in common with each other; besides a strong desire to break the other's nose.


	3. Suspicions

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

* * *

Harry woke unnaturally early the next morning, fumbling around in the darkness for his glasses as he tried to read his watch. He shoved them on to his nose and the hands came into focus. 6:45. He groaned and flopped back on to his pillows tiredly, willing sleep to overtake him once more. A frown appeared on his face when he heard a sigh coming from somewhere to his left; a sigh that didn't sound like it came from one of the other Gryffindor boys. Cautiously, Harry pulled back the hangings from his bed, remembering that he no longer slept in Gryffindor Tower as the room around him came into view.

There was a gap in Malfoy's hangings, and through it, Harry could see the blond head lying against the fluffy pillows, his grey eyes wide open as he stared up at the canopy of his bed. Harry blinked the sleep out of his eyes, wondering why Malfoy was awake so early.

"Couldn't sleep." The blond must have felt Harry's eyes on him, or heard the soft scraping sound as the scarlet drapes were pushed back, because he turned his head to look at Harry. "That's what you were wondering, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded dumbly, unsure how, or if he was supposed to continue this conversation. "Oh…" He said stupidly.

Malfoy smirked. "I didn't know it was possible to be any less eloquent than you are normally, but you just proved me wrong Potter."

Harry scowled. "Shut up, Malfoy."

Malfoy returned his gaze to the canopy of his bed, shaking his head softly, a grin still in place on his features.

"What?" Harry asked, tired, and suffering from early morning irritation.

"I knew it wasn't possible."

"Knew _what_ wasn't possible?" Harry rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the sleep that still clouded them, and his brain.

"Having a civil conversation with you." Malfoy stated plainly, his eyes still fixed on the green canopy above him, which had suddenly become very interesting with his last sentence now said.

Harry blinked sleepily. "It could be…" He stated lamely.

Malfoy snorted with derision. "How, exactly? We've been rivals since we were eleven, in case you had forgotten, Potter."

"I guess… But it doesn't have to be that way in the future, just because that's how it's always been. Does it?" Harry stifled a yawn with his head, looking blearily over at Malfoy.

Malfoy shrugged carelessly. "I don't know, do I Potter?"

"Well, it's not like you've got many friends now, is it Malfoy?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying; all your old cronies are either dead or in Azkaban. Would it have killed you to make friends with nicer people?" Harry asked bluntly.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and a range of emotions Harry failed to identify swirled in the grey pools. After a few moments, the blond wrenched back the blankets and with a mumbled "Whatever Potter." He stalked off to shower and change into his robes for the day.

An hour or so later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall lazily eating breakfast as they waited for their timetables to be handed out. Harry had easily evaded the topic of sharing a room with Malfoy with non-committal grunts and the occasional shrug, which his friends took to mean he didn't want to talk about it. They knew him well enough by now to know that he would tell them in his own time; and personally, if it were them, _they _wouldn't want to prolong thinking about sharing sleeping quarters with their closest rival any longer than they had to either. It would push someone over the edge.

Just as Harry leaned over to grab his third piece of toast that morning; he noticed a nervous looking fifth-year prefect place their timetables quickly on the table and scurry away; a little in awe of the older students and war heroes who graced the Hall.

Hermione let out a small exclamation of what Harry presumed was delight, as she picked up her timetable, analysing it carefully as she committed the week's plan of lessons to memory. Ron rolled his eyes playfully at her as he started comparing their schedules; the two engrossed in which classes they shared, and not just so Ron would know which subjects he could easily get help with his homework in.

For the second time in two days, Harry felt his attention wandering and settling on Malfoy as Ron and Hermione reverted back into 'couple-mode'. He noticed that the sulky blond was sitting alone and moodily stabbing at his eggs with his fork; the runny yolk splattered over his plate as he scowled down at them as though trying to place the blame on them for whatever problem he was having. It didn't seem right to Harry that Malfoy was alone. He was usually surrounded by a crowd of admirers or associates; always the centre of attention, unless he was up to something. Harry felt a sense of unease fall over him at this thought. Was Malfoy up to something? If so, what? Was a good thing? Or something bad? He made a mental note to tail Malfoy whenever he could; and was reminded of his sixth year at Hogwarts when he had done the very same thing. A hand waved in front of his face. "Harry? Harry?" He blinked and looked over at the owner, his eyes focusing on Ron with Hermione by his side as he turned his head. "Sorry, what?"

"Blimey Harry. What happened between you and Malfoy? Did he hex you? Because you certainly seem to be keeping a close eye on him…"

Harry shook his head. "No… I just think he's up to something…"

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Not again. Harry, this isn't going to be a repeat of sixth year, is it? You're not going to become obsessed with Malfoy only a day into the term are you?"

Harry looked defensive. "I was not and am not obsessing over him."

The two exchanged sceptical glances. "I'm _not_!" Harry sighed, crossing his arms. "Fine, whatever. But I was right last time, wasn't I? He _was_ up to something."

"Yes, but Harry… What could Malfoy possibly do? Voldemort's dead and the Malfoy family don't have a great deal of political power to their name anymore. Even if he was planning something, what on earth could it be and how in the world could he manage it?" Hermione tried to reason with him, but Harry had made up his mind.

"That's what I'm going to find out."

The bell rang, effectively cutting off their discussion as the Hall emptied of groaning students carrying heavy book bags; heading off to the first of many classes of the term.


	4. A Discovery

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed so far! ^^ It means a lot, so thanks =)**

* * *

During the next fortnight, Harry discretely tailed Malfoy whenever possible; the task made much easier now that they shared a room, and the fact that Harry had an invisibility cloak, plus previous experience of following the blond boy; he knew how his mind worked and could correctly predict patterns in the boy's behaviour along with his movements with almost disconcerting accuracy. At any other time, Harry might have been worried that he knew Malfoy in the depth that he did; but he was too absorbed in the task at hand; frequently staring over at the boy during mealtimes; observing his every move and leaving Hermione and Ron to their own devices to follow Malfoy in his free periods, almost disappointed when they would always end up either by the lake, during which times Malfoy would stare forlornly out at the rippling, liquid surface, or in the owlery; and in both locations, Malfoy was never greeted by anyone else. What he did notice, however, was that any attempts at friendly, or at least polite, conversation Malfoy had tried to instigate between the two of them previously, had stopped altogether. In fact, the boys rarely spoke to each other at all. It was like living with a stranger; not his closest rival, Harry mused.

Eventually, after tailing Malfoy almost non-stop for a little over three weeks, it clicked at breakfast time as Harry sat observing him sitting once more alone and poking dejectedly at a bowl of cereal. He confronted the sullen boy that same evening as they were both readying themselves for bed.

"You don't have any friends."

Malfoy looked up at him sharply. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked the other straight in the eye and repeated himself: "You don't have any friends, Malfoy. And I don't think you ever did." He said, voicing earlier suspicions he'd had about his rival. "You had cronies and admirers you commanded respect from because of your family's name and reputation. But now your credibility's gone; so have the people you surrounded yourself with."

The blond across the room stiffened, almost in resignation as his grey eyes narrowed. "I don't need your pity, Potter. I've done perfectly well alone before now; I can manage one more ridiculous year."

"Can you? You've always had some support. Can you really handle being totally alone? Because I don't think you can."

"Shut up Potter! You know nothing about me! How did you come across this idiotic information you think you have on me anyway? Have you been stalking me?"

Harry blinked, slightly taken aback by Malfoy's reaction. Apparently he had touched a nerve.

Malfoy took Harry's silence as conformation that his accusation hadn't been unfounded, and snapped. "FUCK Potter! Just because I made some feeble attempt at gaining your friendship previously does _not_ mean you can go gathering information and hounding me as you please! I'll have you know that it wasn't even my idea to try and befriend you in the first place." Malfoy stormed angrily over to the desk he had claimed as his own in their room and pulled out a letter, thrusting it in Harry's face. "It was all Mother's idea to have me become your newest lapdog and help regain some of the Malfoy name's respect! But you know what?"

Harry's fists had balled the minute he had learned that he was once again just some tool in another person's plan. "What? Fucking what Malfoy?" He glared.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't just _use _the 'Chosen One' in a ploy to salvage the last _shred_ of respect my family has. Because I'd rather be fucking _friendless_ – like apparently I've always been according to you, Potter – than go back to the person I was." Draco stared at Harry, panting a little after his outburst, his cheeks tinged with pink. "Are you happy now?"

Harry merely blinked slowly at the angry blond before taking a breath and speaking in a calm voice. "Is that it? One false confession of having changed, and you think I'll suddenly forgive you and be best buddies? You think I'm _that_ stupid? You always have been a slimy git and you always will be, Malfoy." Harry turned on his heel; seriously contemplating sleeping somewhere else for the night, but failing to think of anywhere, he climbed into his four-poster and shut the drapes harshly with a wave of his wand, leaving Draco standing alone in the room with his mouth slightly open in shock.

"Fine," He said as he flopped elegantly into his own bed. "Fucking _fine_."

The next few days were as awkward as ever between the two, as each tried their best to avoid the other. It became an unspoken rule that the first to wake would clear out of the room as soon as possible so the boys did not have to prepare for the day ahead in each other's company. Oddly enough, this was nearly always Draco, and although Harry never considered himself a particularly early riser, the blond was well known not to be a morning person; frequently never gracing the Great Hall with his presence until at least halfway through the morning meal for the past seven years. The same rule applied in the evenings; they would both stay out as late as they could, and whoever arrived back in the room first would ready themselves for bed as quickly as possible before the other arrived. Again, it was usually Draco who stayed out the latest and Harry might have been suspicious had he not already known Draco was not up to something. In the end, it was Ron who came up with a satisfactory, albeit childish conclusion, that Draco was "probably afraid of his pillow."

However, it seemed that this new development was having the opposite effect on Harry than it should have done. Instead of making it easier to pretend that Draco didn't exist; Harry now felt compelled to talk about him more than ever to Ron and Hermione. During Harry's second rant that lunchtime, Hermione gave an annoyed sigh. "Harry. Not that listening to you bitch about Malfoy isn't entertaining," She raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, "But, do you have a point? It seems as though you're just ranting about Malfoy as an excuse to talk about him." She looked at him quizzically.

Harry flushed because deep down, a part of him knew that was _exactly_ what he was doing. "I'm just saying Hermione, how does he expect me to believe he's changed? After all he did? After what he tried to do. I don't appreciate being manipulated for other's uses, you know that."

"Maybe because he has changed?"

"Oh really? And how do you know that?" Harry asked, irritated that she appeared to be taking Draco's side over his.

"Because he helped Parvati and I when we were at Hogwarts last year." Lavender Brown had leaned over and invited herself into the trio's discussion. She was joined a few moments later by Neville and Parvati herself, who nodded in agreement to Lavender's statement. "It's true," She said, looking over at Harry, "The number of times we ran into him when we were running from the Carrows, or one of the other Death Eaters. He always hid us in secret passageways or rooms behind statues or paintings."

Lavender added in her thoughts on the matter; "He was never gracious about it, and he never stayed behind to make sure we were alright, but he never let us get caught. It was almost like he didn't want to see anyone get hurt more than they had to." She smiled a small smile at Harry, "I really think he has changed, Harry."

Neville leaned closer. "He did stop the Carrows using the Cruciatus Curse on me once."

Harry looked up at him, startled. "He what?"

Neville nodded. "He did. Admittedly he told them not to waste their efforts on the idiot son of blood traitors, but I think it was just an act to get them to stop. It worked though." Neville shrugged as he looked at Harry. "I think he really has changed."

Harry sighed and laid his head on the table, reluctantly thinking through the new evidence his fellow Gryffindors had brought to light. He couldn't deny that Draco helping _anybody _had to be a sign that he had changed a little. But if he'd helped people escape Death Eaters… Something clicked in his brain. "Hang on, suppose he did help you lot earlier… That doesn't change the fact he still tried to use me to boost his family's reputation again." He crossed his arms triumphantly; proud of himself that he had found the loophole in Draco's plan to regain credibility by convincing everyone he'd 'changed'.

Hermione raised an eyebrow once more. "But you said he only did that because his mother asked him to. You said that he'd told you he didn't want to go back to being who he was before; that he couldn't just use people like he used to."

Harry scowled at her. Ron smirked a little at him. "Checkmate, mate." Harry threw him a dirty look for good measure. "You hated him too, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm willing to bet that the git's changed. Anyway, if we start spending more time with him, we'll have more opportunity to rub it in that he still does what 'Mummy' tells him too." Ron laughed as Hermione threw him a scandalised look, and he pecked her cheek.

Harry rolled his eyes, but was unable to stop the light grin spreading across his features. "I guess this means I have to apologise to him now, right?" He asked in a tone of resignation.

Hermione nodded seriously. "I think you should Harry." While Ron snorted with laughter. "Rather you than me mate." He said with a grin at Harry's fate. Harry groaned.


	5. Apologies

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

* * *

Later that night, Harry sat anxiously on his bed, flinching at the slightest sound as he listened to the other students bid each other goodnight and retire to their respective rooms. He had decided that it would be better to apologise to Draco sooner rather than later, as unpleasant as the experience was going to be. He itched to consult the Marauder's Map to find his location in a vague attempt to estimate the time of the boy's arrival, but it was often inaccurate these days as the layout of the castle had now changed since its restoration and, sadly, the Map could not update itself to accommodate alterations in the ancient stone building. Harry sat and fidgeted on the bed, running his hand agitatedly through his messy black hair, making it stick up even more than usual and giving him the appearance of a startled bird. He sighed and lay back against the pillows, staring up at the scarlet canopy in an attempt to calm his fraying nerves, feeling his eyes grow heavy as the minutes passed uneventfully. Just as his hazy mind began to wander and wonder _why_ exactly this apology absolutely _had_ to go well, he heard the click of the door as the knob was turned and sat up hastily, ready to face a possibly grumpy blond.

Draco turned the doorknob slowly, returning to his room after a long night of trying to run from his own thoughts. He hated the way his traitorous mind seemed to be turning against him and he hated even more, the fact that Harry Potter had been the one to plant the seeds of doubt there. He dragged his feet, something he'd never previously allowed himself to do, resigned to another sleepless night of broken nightmares and trying to keep himself awake, now that he'd run out of 'Dreamless Sleep' potion. He'd have to start brewing another cauldronful soon; but he could never seem to work up the motivation during the day. It was only at night he regretted not starting, but his new wand didn't seem to be as co-operative with magic as his old one had been and he couldn't risk brewing the potion while he was still struggling with it.

He pushed the door open reluctantly and stepped inside, unwilling to resign himself to another night just yet. He closed the door and looked up, stopping short when he saw Harry sitting waiting for him.

"Malfoy, I-"

"Not now, Potter. I'm exhausted and I'd quite like to get some sleep. Whatever bullshit you have to say to me, it can wait until the morning." Draco walked over to his bed and began pulling his sleepwear out from underneath his pillow.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy."

Draco stopped and turned slowly to face Harry. "What?"

Harry inwardly cringed; this wasn't going to be pretty. "Look, I'm sorry alright. What I… What I said was wrong. Apparently you have changed."

"Apparently?"

Harry resisted the urge to bang his head off one of the posts of his bed. "Well… Yeah. Look, I know about the stuff you did last year to help the others in the castle, but I guess I need more proof. What happened to make you change?"

Draco sighed. This was going to be a long and painful night. He didn't _want _to have to prove himself to the 'Chosen One' but he knew that it was going to have to come out someday, and naturally Harry would be the one who needed persuading that he had indeed 'seen the light'. Now that he thought about it, Harry was more likely than anyone else to understand his new take on life and everything involved in it. He too had been used his whole life, hadn't he? Draco felt a pang of something he could now identify as guilt; he had tried to use Harry, not just recently, but seven years ago on their very first train ride to Hogwarts. Draco himself had tried to befriend Harry in the hopes of being friends with, and thus, associated with, the Great Harry Potter. He hated looking back at his past self. Some habits were ingrained so deeply into his personality that he couldn't help but repeat them, but he was always reminded of what a precocious, arrogant little brat he had been.

He sighed again and sat down on the bed; determinedly not looking at Harry.

"Do you… Do you remember in Sixth Year when _he_," Draco refrained from using any of the terms for Lord Voldemort's name. He knew that using 'the Dark Lord' as his father had done, would instantly put Harry on edge; it was a term only used by Death Eaters and supporters of Voldemort, and he point blank refused to use any of the ridiculous substitutes such 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' and using the actual _name _was out of the question for Draco just now, "Made me repair that Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things as punishment for my father's failure to retrieve the prophecy?"

Harry nodded. He remembered all too well the incidents of that year, and the repercussions.

Draco cleared his throat. "I didn't take too kindly to being used as a tool of persuasion and punishment by him. Knowing that I would be tortured and killed for making a simple mistake didn't particularly agree with me. In my arrogance," Draco still had trouble admitting his flaws out loud, even to himself made him feel slightly sick, but he continued, "I thought I may be rewarded for succeeding, and my parents clearly thought so too." He paused for breath; this was difficult, but he would finish. Malfoys never quit. "However, we were not. When our Manor was converted into a Headquarters of sorts, we expected to be treated with at least a little dignity. As you saw, Potter," Draco looked up at the first time at Harry, regretfully, "We were not. We were treated little above house-elves, and being seen as disposable when we had done everything in our power to help his cause for so many years," Draco met Harry's eyes for the first time, silently conveying an apology for his actions, "Made me wish never to be seen as I saw them. But I realised I probably was. It made me think about my past actions, how similar I was to _him_. I vowed that if I survived the war, the Malfoy name would not be one that people associated with blackmail and fear, obligatory politeness and a courtesy sneer farewell. Truthfully, Potter, you were right. During the time I was trapped in my own home I began to realise that my old friends would gladly torture my family and I, for a share of the power he had. I had not treated them well, and they would not treat me well. The only true friends I really had were my parents."

Harry sat facing Draco as he absorbed all the information he had just received. Although very little of it was new; it was interesting to see things from Draco's perspective, and to learn that their viewpoints, values and opinions were extremely similar. The blond now seemed to be awaiting a response from Harry, and if he had not known the boy, Harry would have thought he was nervous from the way he twisted the Malfoy family-crested ring on his finger.

He stood, and walked the few paces to Draco's bed, standing in front of him as he extended his right hand for the blond to shake. Draco took it in his own and Harry was surprised at how warm his hands were as they shook hands like they could have done all those years ago on the Hogwarts Express.

They changed into their sleep wear in silence, like normal, but none of the awkward tension hung in the air between them and as they climbed into bed, Harry was struck by a thought. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"D'you think this is what McGonagall meant at the start-of-term feast?"

"About 'silly rivalries' and 'a simple refusal of friendship and a difference in opinions'?"

"Yeah…"

Draco smirked. "Yes, Harry. I think this is what she meant us to do."

Harry smiled a little as another thought occurred to him. "Draco?"

"What?" Came the exasperated reply. "Harry, if being your acquaintance means I have to stay up all night talking to you like pre-teen girls, I think might be changing my mind."

Harry grinned in the dark. "No, what I mean is… Well… the others are convinced you're okay now… If you wanted to eat breakfast with us in the morning… I mean… I wouldn't mind…" He finished lamely, glad that the blanket of darkness hid his burning face.

"I'll consider it Harry. Now please, can we go to sleep?"

Harry turned over in response and closed his hangings. Draco did the same and both drifted off into a more relaxed sleep than either had had in weeks, neither aware that for the first time; they'd called each other by their given names.

* * *

**Please review! Thankyou for reading this far ^^**


	6. Breakfast at Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Sorry for updating so late, and for the shortness of this chapter =(  
Chapter 7 will make it interesting and I'll try and get that up ASAP! Promise!  
I'd just like to thank everyone who reviewed so far! You guys keep me writing! ^^**

* * *

The next morning dawned late, as October was quickly waning into November. Harry rose quietly, careful not to disturb the - for once - sleeping Draco. He showered speedily and donned his robes for the day and was attempting to flatten out his hair with a comb when Draco strolled in, looking more than a little bleary-eyed. Harry nodded to him in the mirror and received a nod in return as Draco made his way towards the shower.

As he was shoving the last of his schoolbooks into his bag, Harry wondered if Draco would honestly come over and sit with them at breakfast. Not knowing whether he should wait for the blond or not, Harry sat on the bed, running his hands through his hair and figuring that perhaps he and Draco could at least walk down to breakfast together; he really wanted to make the effort for the blond, but curiously, he seemed unable to find reasoning behind this desire. He looked up nervously as Draco returned, looking much more like his normal primped and polished self, rather than the dishevelled version Harry had seen only fifteen minutes ago. The blond moved to his bed and packed his bag quickly before turning to Harry, an eyebrow raised in question.

"I uh… I thought we could walk down to breakfast together…" Harry mentally groaned. Why had he waited? Now he sounded ridiculous and desperate. "I-I mean… if you wanted to. You… You don't have to or anything." Ooh. Much better. Harry congratulated himself on how cool he sounded. Not.

Draco appeared to smirk, but it turned into a small smile before Harry's eyes as the boy shrugged. "Okay."

Harry stood, shouldering his own bag and blinking uncertainly at Draco, sure the blond was going to burst out laughing at his gullibility any second.

Draco rolled his eyes and headed towards the door. "Coming?"

Harry nodded, adjusting his glasses and following the blond out into the corridor. They walked side-by-side in silence for a few minutes before Draco spoke up. "Listen, Harry…" Harry looked at him instead of his own feet. "Were you serious last night? About breakfast?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah… I was."

Draco sighed. "I just don't think I'm ready to sit in a huge crowd of Gryffindors yet." He looked back at Harry. "You understand, right?"

He understood completely. Had the roles been reversed and Harry been the one to mock and sneer at the Slytherins, having them all hate him; only to have to help out a few of them once he decided he was on the wrong side of war… Well, he wouldn't exactly feel comfortable sitting among a large group of them either. He nodded. "Of course. Maybe some other time."

They reached the Great Hall once more in silence and strolled off to their respective house tables, Harry collapsing on to the bench next to Hermione and Ron.

Hermione passed him a plate of buttered toast with a question in her eyes.

Harry rolled his own as he bit into the first slice. "Yeah, I did it 'Mione."

"How did it go? Did you punch him?" Ron asked with a grin, which he sobered at the look he received from his girlfriend.

Harry shook his head and swallowed, and started to recount to his friends the events of last night.

When he had finished and had sufficiently answered all of Hermione's questions, he allowed his attention to wander yet again to Draco. The blond was sitting alone at the Slytherin table, slowly pulling apart a piece of toast in his hands. He sighed and made a snap decision. Standing up and with a mumbled "See you in class." To Ron and Hermione, he walked over to the Ravenclaw table, grabbing Luna and Neville - who seemed to be sitting with her at every meal they had attended this year - and dragged them over to sit beside Draco. The blond looked up, startled at the invasion of his privacy, staring at Harry as he sat opposite him. "What are you doing?"

"Well, you said you were uncomfortable sitting in a huge crowd of Gryffindors, so I brought a couple over to you. Look, one of them isn't even a Gryffindor." He gestured at Luna who smiled dreamily and resumed her conversation with Neville as though nothing had interrupted them.

Draco looked at him. "I don't need you to look out for me."

Harry blinked and then suppressed a grin. "Let's just say I have a hero complex and need to be out saving someone, whether they need saving or not." He stated, his lips twitching.

One of Draco's eyebrows arched, but he said nothing. The rest of the meal was spent in easy, polite conversation between the two couples.


	7. Love Potions Cause Confusions

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Woo! Alright, this is the chapter where things start to get interesting between the boys ;) No action yet, but it's coming, I promise!  
Enjoy and please review!**

* * *

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully, with Harry and Draco becoming closer and closer to being considered friends. Once or twice a week, Luna and Harry dragged Draco and Neville over to the Ravenclaw table and they spent the evenings quietly talking and joking, with Draco glaring at anyone whom he caught staring at them. Although he had changed, the blond still wasn't quite open to people jovially talking to him in the corridors, throwing him smiles as they passed and he was never going to be everyone's best friend. He just wasn't that kind of person; even if those things did start to occur; which wasn't very likely in the near future.

The workload that year was immense and the boys often stayed up late in their room, Draco helping Harry with his increasingly difficult homework. "Harry, you defeated Voldemort, but you can't even manage a simple _Gemino Charm_?" Draco asked exasperatedly when Harry tried and failed once again to cast the spell that would duplicate his quill upon human contact. Harry scowled and thumped his head on the desk.

The lesson Harry struggled most with, however, was Potions. Now that he no longer had Professor Snape's old textbook, his skills in the subject had fallen to well below average again, much to Professor Slughorn's dismay. During the previous week, he and Draco had been drifting closer and closer together in classes. Today, they had both arrived late and were forced to take a bench together. Harry fidgeted and sweated over his potion, adding ingredients at random and stirring when the potion looked like it needed it. They were supposed to be making _Amortentia_, the most powerful love potion in the world, which they had learned about back in their sixth year during their first lesson with Slughorn. Draco's potion had already taken on a faint 'mother-of-pearl sheen' and the steam was starting to loosely spiral like the book – and Hermione – described, but _his_ potion was bubbling thickly in his cauldron and was wine-coloured instead of the creamy-pink shade it should have been as his stage. Harry sighed.

Draco smirked. "You're supposed to add one Ashwinder egg _twelve_minutes after the addition of eight pairs of Doxy wings. It looks like you added it too soon."

Harry scowled. "Well, that's very helpful to know, but what exactly do I _do_ about it?"

"Add some Mooncalf dung and a sprig of peppermint."

Harry rolled his eyes. Why were the people he associated with _always_ the cleverest in the year?

While he was searching through the store cupboard for the correct ingredients to fix his potion, he realised that not long ago, he would never have even asked Draco for help and now here he was accepting his advice without question. A tiny part of him still wondered if Draco was setting him up to fail, but he suppressed the thought; he wanted to trust Draco, whatever the reason his subconscious had decided upon for this sudden urge was.

Harry made his way back to his cauldron and nervously added the ingredients. His potion instantly turned the exact shade it was supposed to be. He turned to Draco gratefully and whispered a quiet "Thanks."

Draco nodded and muttered back, "Just pay attention to what you're doing next time."

By the end of Friday's double lesson, Harry had at least clawed his way up to an average potion, with some helpful pointers from Draco. As Professor Slughorn patrolled the classroom inspecting their work, Harry allowed himself to sit back and inhale the intoxicating fumes of the love potions that had been brewed. Only Hermione and Draco had successfully completed their potions and he breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of treacle tart, the smell of the wooden broomstick handle he so loved, and something new that he was sure he'd smelt only recently.

He spent the last five minutes wondering what it could possibly be as the class cleared up, vanishing potions and tidying away their cauldrons. As they exited the dungeon, Harry caught a whiff of the smell again as Draco brushed past just a little too closely. His eyes widened. Why on earth was the scent of Draco Malfoy one of the components he smelled when he inhaled the fumes of a love potion?

-x-

Harry mulled this thought confusedly over and over in his head for the rest of day, distractedly picking at his food at dinner, theories chasing themselves round and round his dazed and confused brain as he poked at a tomato on his plate. Previously, the scent of that particular potion had always included the scent of Ginny's perfume. He had known that would no longer be present, as they had never continued their relationship where they left off. After the war, Harry simply hadn't been able to connect to her on the same level as he had previously, and eventually, she had admitted to feeling the same way. They were still friends, but rarely got a chance to talk anymore as Ginny was always busy either with schoolwork or Dean Thomas. Harry wasn't jealous of their relationship, but found it difficult to talk to them as a couple, and Ron hadn't taken the news that Harry and Ginny were no longer an item very well, so Harry thought it best to steer clear of the subject of his old girlfriend for fear of getting into yet another argument about how he'd 'used her'.

But he still failed to understand why Draco, his long-term rival and short-term, almost-friend, played a bigger part in a potion that was supposed to imitate love than his ex-girlfriend did. Harry didn't even like boys in _that_ way. He was fairly sure of that. He'd never even _considered_ doing _anything_ with a boy. He tried to picture himself kissing a faceless boy in the way he used to kiss Ginny, and was repulsed by the thought. There, he liked girls. Didn't he? He tried the same scene again, but this time with a girl. He didn't exactly feel repulsed by it… But he didn't feel anything else either. Nothing. Harry sighed. Great, he was asexual.

He supposed he should have seen this coming. Even with Ginny, he'd never gone beyond an intense kiss or three. He simply hadn't felt the urge to do anything more with the person beside him.

He tried picturing the kissing scene again, letting his eyes glaze over as he gazed around the Great Hall with his eyes out of focus, his head automatically turning towards the Slytherin table. The familiar bright blond head caught his eye and the fantasy person in his experimental daydream instantly took on Draco's appearance.

Immediately, the dream became much more real. An unfamiliar flame glowed in the pit of his stomach and he could feel Draco's soft lips on his own, their fingers tangled in each other's hair; the blond tresses fine and silky to his touch, as he felt Draco's hot breath graze his flushed cheek as they both gasped and panted for air.

Harry blinked. What? _What?! _His face began to heat up; terrified that someone else had seen the images playing out inside his head. He stood up, grabbing his bag and hurried away from the table.

He was _not_ gay. He wasn't. How could he be? He had only thought about Draco because he happened to catch his eye. Yes, that was it. He had seen Draco and his mind had simply taken that into consideration when supplying him with imaginary fantasies. There was nothing more to it. He barely even thought about Draco. Apart from now. Damn. He focused his attention on where he was going, not allowing his mind to wander anywhere else besides from where his feet were taking him.

He reached the room and opened the door, collapsing on to his bed gratefully. Now wasn't the time to sit here and think. His mind might take him down a dangerous path. Standing up, he walked to his dresser and pulled out a Quidditch Almanac Hermione had bought him for his eighteenth birthday that summer. He lit a fire in the grate with a flick of his wand and flopped into one of the armchairs beside it, opening the book as he did so.

Draco returned to their room a couple of hours later; looking harassed and disgruntled. He had spent his time walking around the school and letting his logical mind think over his latest problem as he usually did when faced with difficulties. Right now, however, his mind was being treacherous and refusing to co-operate with him, indulging in reckless fantasies that only served to confuse and disturb him further. He shut the door with a little more force than necessary, startling Harry who had been reading in his chair. At the sight of each other, both boys flushed but neither wanted to look away for fear of appearing weak.

"You're back early." Harry glanced at his watch; Draco didn't normally return to their room until at least an hour after the current time.

Draco nodded. "So are you."

"Yeah, I err… Thought I'd better start on the homework we got given for Potions."

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow. "And reading a Quidditch Almanac is going to help, is it?"

Harry blushed and Draco smirked, sitting in the other armchair beside Harry and handing him a bottle of butterbeer he had 'liberated' from the kitchens.

"What's this for?" Harry accepted the bottle in confusion and flicked the top off with his wand, watching Draco attempt to do the same with his own drink.

The blond shrugged, "Just felt like we needed a drink." as he furiously tried to get his wand to perform the correct spell needed to free the liquid inside.

Harry frowned. "What's wrong? Why doesn't your wand work?" He asked in confusion.

Draco finally succeeded in separating bottle from top and sat back in his armchair lazily as he surveyed Harry. "This is a new wand. It doesn't co-operate as readily as my old one did."

Harry felt guilt wash over him. He still had Draco's old wand back at Grimmauld Place. He hadn't given it a second thought since he'd repaired his own, and it lay in the attic where he'd put most of the other things he didn't want reminding him of the war. He took a swig of butterbeer, making a mental note to get Kreacher to send it over to Hogwarts as soon as possible. "Oh." Was all he said in response.

The two sat, chatting amicably as they drank and even playing a game of wizard chess; which Draco of course won due to his superior skill; having played the game with his parents since he was seven years old. They played and talked until the fire in the grate at last died and they decided to call it a night, climbing tiredly into their beds.


	8. Wands at Halloween

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**I am SO sorry to everyone who I've kept waiting for this update! I've had some personal things going on which affected my ability to write a little. Hopefully it's sorted, or on the way to being sorted though. As a gift, I've got 5 chapters for you all to read.**

**I'd like to thank everyone that has stuck with this story so far and not given up on this, despite the lack of updates.. =S I'd also like to say a HUGE thankyou to those of you who reviewed while I wasn't writing. Your comments brought a smile to my face and encouraged me to start writing again; I'm really grateful to you 3**

* * *

Harry rose early on Saturday morning and wrote a letter to Kreacher, instructing him to retrieve Draco's wand from the attic and get the school's eagle owl to bring it back to Hogwarts the same day. He still hadn't quite found it within him to replace Hedwig; and he was beginning to wonder if he ever would. He hurried out to the Owlery, head bowed against the chilly wind of the last day of October, and tied his letter to the leg of one of the school's owls, watching it fly off into the distance.

He headed slowly back up to the castle to join Ron and Hermione for breakfast, unwinding the Gryffindor scarf from his neck as he entered the Great Hall. He sat down with them and pulled some bacon and sausages on to his plate as he listened to their discussion about what they were doing to do once they headed into Hogsmeade after the meal, to celebrate Halloween. Harry wasn't going with them for three reasons. One; he knew Ron had something planned for Hermione and he didn't want to get in the way of the romantic couple. Two; he had enough trouble coping with the stares from the students under the teacher's watchful eyes; it would be much worse when almost the whole school was packed into the village with nobody to make sure he wasn't constantly bothered. The villagers were often worse than the pupils, and there were still journalists lurking around. Thirdly, he had fallen behind on his homework again and needed the time to catch up. He had lost much of his focus for lessons during the war and had trouble concentrating while his teachers tried to communicate the 'theory of a spell' to the class. It wasn't something that bothered him, he'd often had trouble focusing during theory lessons, but it was starting to affect his homework and performance, so he figured he'd better stay behind and use the extra time to refresh his memory of the work he'd recently been studying.

Breakfast finished; he meandered slowly to the front doors with his friends, and after convincing Hermione that, no, he didn't want to come with them and, yes, he would be perfectly fine on his own; he saw them off and headed up to his room to begin the boring task of working through his essays for that week.

Around an hour into his failing study – he'd written three paragraphs – he was interrupted by the eagle owl he'd sent off that morning tapping on the window. He grinned and opened it, allowing the bird to hop inside and untying the long package before it flew off up to the Owlery again.

Just as he was tucking the package into the drawer of his desk, the door opened and in strolled Draco, his head buried in a book. He glanced up and nodded to Harry before putting the book down.

"You were up early this morning."

"Yeah, I err… Had to write a letter." Briefly wondering why he didn't tell Draco about his wand, Harry continued. "You busy? I need your advice for this Transfiguration essay."

Draco leaned over the desk, brushing Harry's shoulder as he did so and Harry shivered as he caught that scent again, the scent that was entirely, inexplicably, Draco Malfoy. He breathed in deeply without noticing, as the blond scrutinised his scribbling.

Draco turned his aristocratic head and raised and elegant eyebrow. "This is all you've done?"

Harry scowled. "Yeah."

"How long did it take you?"

He blushed and muttered, "An hour."

Draco smirked. "You need a break. You'll never write anything decent if you've been sitting here for an hour already, writing rubbish." He straightened and looked down at Harry. "Seeker's only game. The wind's perfect for flying."

Harry grinned. He hadn't ridden his broom in a long time. "Sounds great."

They walked together down to the grounds, each holding their broom as though it was a fifth limb they never wished to be parted from. Raiding the school's Quidditch supply closet, they found a snitch and settled on a spot from which to take off. Placing the snitch on the ground and immobilising it, they both stood an equal distance away and mounted their brooms. Harry freed the snitch with his wand and they both counted thirty seconds before taking off in search of it.

The joy Harry felt from being back on his broom was immense. He hadn't realised just how much he'd missed sailing through the sky; his hair whipping his face, until this moment. An unstoppable grin spread across his face as he and Draco circled the skies in search of the small golden ball; polishing their flying skills, practising old stunts and yelling playful insults and slurs to each other about their diminishing skills and quality of flying.

They played until their fingers became numb and stiff, the wind chilling them past endurance and they landed after six rounds of the game; Harry winning four of them, though Draco argued that at least two of those wins had been pure luck and he had been 'distracted'. By what, Harry failed to receive an answer, and was smirking triumphantly. Walking back to their room to warm up, shower and change for the Halloween feast, they laughed and joked happily with each other as though they had been friends for years.

Once they had both taken hot showers and changed into fresh clothing, they sat next to the newly lit fire, talking passionately about Quidditch. As they were considered 'ex-students' who were only returning for a revision year, neither boy was allowed to play for his house team, a rule which they both found deeply unfair. Draco had also lost his status as a Prefect, which didn't bother him much, as he still got all of the perks - such as people hurriedly clearing out of the way for him whenever he walked down corridors – but with none of the responsibility.

"The only thing I really miss about being a Prefect," He confided in Harry, "Is being able to take House Points away from Gryffindor."

Harry kicked his shin off-handily and Draco smirked.

His gaze falling on the drawer of his desk as he looked out the window at the dark sky, Harry suddenly remembered what was inside. He stood up and pulled out the package that had arrived that morning, handing it over to Draco wordlessly.

"What's this?" Draco looked up at him in confusion as he sat back down.

"Just open it. It's not cursed, I promise."

Draco threw him a look and neatly opened the long package, his eyes widening in recognition as his old wand rolled out into his hand. "My wand?"

Harry nodded. "You were complaining about your new one not working as well as that one had, and I remembered I still had it at home, so…"

"You kept it?" Draco's eyes were focused on his wand as he held it up to the firelight to inspect it, a small smile on his face.

"Well… I didn't really think much about it. It worked fine for me when I tried to use it and there's no sense in throwing away a perfectly good wand." Harry smiled a little. "I'm just glad I could give it back to you."

Draco looked at him. "Thankyou." Their gazes met and both boys found themselves lost in green and grey pools as the resulting silence continued endlessly. For the briefest moment, Harry could almost feel the lips from his fantasy the day before on his own as the firelight cast flickering shadows over both their faces. He swallowed and Draco blinked.

"We should get down to the feast. It will have started by now."

Harry nodded and stood, pulling himself out of the dreamy atmosphere that appeared to have engulfed him. Draco pocketed his old wand and opened the door for Harry graciously, and followed him out. They began a polite exchange on the way down; each trying to shrug off the strange atmosphere that had landed over them in the room.

Upon arriving in the Great Hall, they looked at each other uncertainly before Harry asked, "Are… Are you sitting with us?"

Draco looked at him. "I'm still not very comfortable being around them."

"You're comfortable around me."

"You're one person. I know I could easily take you out in a duel if you attacked me."

Harry threw him a mock-dirty look. "It's been two months Draco. Look," He gestured around the Great Hall; "Practically nobody's sitting at their proper house tables; if you're worried about the other Slytherins seeing you at the Gryffindor table."

Draco scowled. "It isn't about that. I'm just not comfortable with all the judgement that passes over me."

"You think you're the only one who's being judged? How do you think I feel? I'm looked up to as this big war-hero. What do you think will people say if they knew I relied on your help to get my homework to an acceptable level?"

Draco smirked. "Well, you aren't exactly the academic type."

"So you'll sit with me at the Gryffindor table and we'll be judged together?" Harry asked, a grin spreading across his face.

The blond rolled his eyes. "If that's what it takes to get you to shut up, then yes, fine."

They strolled over together to the long house tables and sat in amongst the group of ex-seventh years who seemed to have congregated there. After a few mistrustful looks at Draco and receiving warning glances from Harry in return, everything settled down, plates were piled high and conversations resumed. Harry chatted happily with Hermione and Ron; Draco answered anything Hermione asked him a little stiffly and never instigated a conversation himself, but no arguments were started. Ron refrained from speaking directly to the blond and the other students ignored Draco for the most part, only throwing him suspicious glances when Harry wasn't looking.

Around eleven o'clock when all students were sufficiently full and becoming tired, the feast ended and everyone traipsed off to bed; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco walking slowly at the back of the huge crowd as they moved off to bed. Once they reached the third floor, Harry bid Ron and Hermione goodnight and headed off with Draco to their room.

"See? It wasn't that bad," Harry teased Draco playfully as they got inside, "Nobody tried to bite your head off, or curse you."

"They wanted to though."

"That's just because you're a prat, not because of who you are. Wait, that doesn't make sense..." A mixture of good food and tiredness had got to Harry, addling his thinking processes slightly.

"Not much of what you say makes sense, Harry."

Harry chose to ignore the insult, he was in too good a mood to argue with Draco. He yawned, covering his mouth as he did so.

"Listen, Harry. I wanted to thank you again for my wand. Not many wizards would have kept the wand of their greatest enemy in one piece."

Harry smiled. "Don't get so full of yourself. Voldemort was my biggest enemy, not you. But you're welcome anyway."

Draco returned the smile. "In the morning, I'll help you with that Transfiguration essay."

Harry's eyes widened as he pulled on his pyjamas. "Damn. I forgot about that. Thanks Draco." He removed his glasses and climbed into bed, Draco doing the same on the other side of the room; both boys too tired to stay up and talk tonight. They could always do it another night.


	9. Dreams and Quidditch

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Hehehehe... Don't kill Ron after reading this btw ;) Those boys will get their dreams coming true... *cough cough***

* * *

The month of November was relatively uneventful at Hogwarts. With the exception of some rather disturbing dreams coming to the surface of his unconscious, Harry found nothing out of the ordinary going on in his life. He was plagued by dreams of Draco and himself, often in compromising positions and indulging in activities Harry had little experience of, but was reluctant to give up. How his mind managed to conjure enough of these images to have him waking each morning with a certain appendage begging for the attention of his hand, Harry did not know. And why Draco was the other participant in these night-time fantasy activities, Harry also could not fathom without venturing into the deeply confusing territory he had hidden in his mind. Perhaps one of the reasons behind these dreams was that during the past couple of weeks, he had often awoken in the middle of the night to hear the blond moaning softly in his sleep. And Harry doubted it was the kind of moan that escaped his own lips while he was having a nightmare.

Regardless of whatever strange dreams his subconscious was playing out in his mind while he was asleep, Harry and Draco spent increasing amounts of their waking free time together; faithfully playing three hours worth of Seeker's Only Quidditch every Saturday morning. Harry enjoyed these times, but was slightly unnerved whenever he caught Draco staring at him with an odd expression on his face, which was surprisingly frequently. It also worried him that during these times, his own dreams would come back to him with vivid clarity as he took in Draco's perfect features, and the boys would be lost, staring at each other for a few moments before one of them broke out of their hormone-induced stupor. He also found it increasingly difficult to concentrate in class whenever Draco was in his direct line of vision. His brain seemed to take him down a path that lead straight into one of his dreams whenever he caught sight of that blond head during a particularly boring lesson.

During one crisp Saturday morning at the beginning of December, as they were walking down to the grounds to play their weekly game, Draco reached out and starting absentmindedly playing with a particularly unruly section of Harry's hair. It took all of Harry's focus to keep his knees from buckling as those warm fingers rolled the ends of his hair between their tips and gently brushed his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.

"Harry… How on earth does your hair get so messy? You don't even shag frequently, so you have no excuse."

Harry blinked, his brain trying to string a coherent sentence together in reply. "Well… Uhhh… We- we can't all be perfect sex-gods like you, Draco." Fabulous. Absolutely stunning. Perfect comeback. Not. Harry could feel his face burning as the full meaning of his stuttered sentence reached his brain. Had he really just called Draco a sex-god? He looked around for a nice, convenient hole in the ground to swallow him up.

Draco smirked as he withdrew his hand. "Careful Harry. I might think you're trying to hit on me."

Harry blushed, but grinned, able to think clearly now Draco had removed those warm fingers and stopped caressing his scalp. "Well, as much as I know you want me," He glanced at Draco and his grin widened as their eyes met, "You wish."

They both laughed and continued the charade into the air as they searched for the small golden ball they had released into the sky.

Fifteen minutes into their third round of the morning, Draco suddenly came speeding towards Harry; arm outstretched. His eyes widened, but before he could do anything, the blond had stopped in front of him, hovering slightly higher than Harry on his broom, his fingers closed around the snitch above Harry's right ear and a smirk plastered across his elegant features. He leaned closer, their faces inches apart, and whispered, "Remind you of a particular game in our second year, Harry?" His voice was low and hushed, the words dripping out of the mouth Harry dreamed whispered to him and gave him pleasure in the most sinful of ways, were laden with seductive promises and hidden desires.

Harry blinked, his lips slightly parted in a vague attempt to begin a retort, but he was captivated by the hooded grey pools of Draco's eyes which were swirling with an unmistakable lust that he knew was portrayed in his own closing eyes, their mouths drifting closer and closer together with each long, slow second that passed. He could feel Draco's breath on the corner of his mouth, almost taste his lips as they moved ever closer to his own tingling, slightly trembling ones, as he tilted his chin up in anticipation.

A shout echoed from far below them and Harry jumped back, startled by the loud voice as Draco looked down at the intruder guiltily.

"HARRY!" It was Ron, waving up at him enthusiastically, gesturing for him to come down. Harry landed expertly beside the redhead, Draco landing a few seconds later, several feet away, his cheeks tinged slightly pink, and Harry knew his own face was burning as he fought to control his racing heart beat.

"Fancy a some Quidditch practice?" Harry relaxed. Ron hadn't seen them. He didn't fancy having to explain something like this to his best friend when he didn't understand himself just yet.

"Oh, err… I was just finishing up with Draco…" He threw the blond a confused and guilty look and found his blush deepened as the other gazed back with the same expression, "But, umm… Sure." He mounted his broom again as Ron took off. "I'll err… I'll see you later I guess?"

Draco nodded silently and stalked off with his own broom towards the castle.

Moments later, Harry was back in the sky on his broom as he flew up to meet Ron in the air.

"Harry mate, what was that about?"

Harry looked at Ron, "What was all what about?" He asked confusedly, hoping Ron wasn't getting at what he thought he was getting at.

"You and Malfoy. Up here. Getting very close. Was he threatening you?" Ron looked angry.

"Oh, err… No. He was just umm… Looking at my glasses! Yeah, he thought he saw a crack in them, but there wasn't anything there. He was just making sure…" Harry rambled on.

Ron looked sceptical and he didn't blame him. His brain had turned to mush and not recovered since his brief, almost-encounter with Draco.

"It was nothing, really. If he starts up again, which I doubt, I'll hold him down and I'll let you take the first punch." He grinned, hoping to distract Ron from the awkward situation he had found Harry and Draco in, and indulging in a short-lived day-dream in which he was indeed, holding the blond down, although with distinctly less clothing than he was sure Ron was imagining them to be wearing.

The redhead laughed and they began to practice, although Harry failed miserably at everything he tried to do, with his attention focused elsewhere.


	10. Merry Christmas

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**You can all now do the official Harry-and-Draco-Forever happy dance... =D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The next couple of weeks were awkward between Harry and Draco. They had not had a chance to talk properly since the incident while they were playing, and were doing their best to avoid each other out of sheer embarrassment. Falling back into their old routine of rising as early as possible and returning to their room as late as they could, they talked very little and the others just presumed they'd had another fight; it wasn't uncommon afterall.

Harry discovered that it was himself who rose the earliest and returned to the room last, this time around. He needed the time to think things over in his currently, very confused, state of mind. Clearly, he had wanted to kiss Draco, judging from the way the scene now kept playing out in his recurring dreams about the other boy. But that would make him… And he wasn't. Definitely not. He had tried replacing Draco in their little _encounter_ with another boy; and was still disgusted by it. But, he still failed to get the same reaction from his body when he replaced Draco with a girl.

Harry couldn't understand it. He wasn't gay, but he wasn't exactly straight either. He had to eventually admit that Draco, and only Draco could get him thoroughly aroused. Which wasn't really so bad. Was it? What was so bad about liking Draco? He was smart, good-looking and he was good fun to be with. It only posed one problem. Unless Draco felt the same way… He was stuck living an asexual life because nobody else could measure up to the perfection that was Draco Malfoy.

The Christmas holidays were approaching and the castle was decorated in its usual festive manner; the twelve trees were put up and adorned appropriately, enchanted snow decorated the windows, holly wreaths were hung on classroom doors and the suits of armour were bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone walked past them during daylight hours.

In celebration, another Hogsmeade weekend had been announced so students could do their Christmas shopping. Wrapped up in gloves, scarves and hats, holding their cloaks closely around them, Harry, Ron and Hermione ventured out into the bitter cold and snow to see what they could find in the way of gifts this year. Having missed Christmas last year, Harry was determined to make this one something to remember. They split up in order to buy presents for each other, agreeing to meet in the Three Broomsticks an hour later.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry had finished except for one all-important present. He badly wanted to buy something for Draco, but what do you buy the boy who has everything? He sighed and trudged through the snow slowly, rubbing his gloveless hands together in an effort to warm them and looking around until something in one of the shop windows caught his eye. He stared at it thoughtfully, before heading inside. He picked up the black scarf, feeling how soft it was. That wasn't his main interest, however. Stitched into one of the corners was a tiny, silver, fire breathing dragon. Harry smiled to himself. It was perfect.

With his purchases tucked safely under his cloak, Harry made his way back to the Three Broomsticks where he met up with Ron, Hermione and few others for a Christmas drink, a small smile ever-present on his face.

-x-

The last day of term was as busy and hectic as ever. Everywhere students were running around, trying to find and gather together the last of their possessions for the train ride home. Harry's trunk was packed and ready, so he was helping Ron and Hermione look for Crookshanks _again, _the little ginger demon knew he was going to be shoved into his small wicker basket for an untold number of hours, and he didn't want to be.

Two hours and several painful scratches later, Crookshanks was packed safely away and Harry was free to return to his room. It was early evening and Harry debated going straight to the Great Hall to await the beginning of the feast to avoid going into his room and possibly coming face-to-awkward-face with Draco, but decided against it. Pushing the door open cautiously, he was a little disappointed to see that Draco was not there. Walking over to his bed, he noticed a small package lying there addressed to him in what was, unmistakably, Draco's neat handwriting. Harry looked around for the blond as he picked it up curiously. It was fairly light and flexible; Harry assumed there was an item of clothing inside. Carefully tearing open the paper, he pulled out a pair of scarlet and gold striped gloves. There was a note pinned to them.

_Your hands looked cold today. I thought you might need these. Merry Christmas._

_Draco_

Harry smiled as he read Draco's note. When had he seen him? He hoped it wasn't when he was buying the scarf. He wanted that to be a surprise. There was a knock at the door and Harry put down the gloves and went to open it, still amazed at how thoughtful Draco was.

"Hi Harry," Hermione smiled brightly at him, her hand clasped in Ron's.

"Coming down to the feast, mate? I'm starving." Ron's statement was backed by his stomach as it gave a loud rumble. He grinned and patted it with his free hand.

Harry laughed and nodded, becoming aware of how hungry he was himself. They walked down to the feast together laughing and joking like the old friends they were.

As they ate and drank merrily with the others, Harry's attention – as it usually did nowadays – began to wander over to Draco. He was sitting a little stiffly and Harry knew that he tensed when he sensed those green eyes on him. Occasionally, he could feel Draco's grey eyes fall on to himself, so he knew that the blond was having as hard a time concentrating on the festivities as he was. When he eventually caught Draco's eye halfway through the meal, he gave him a meaningful look; trying to convey to him that he had received the gloves and was grateful. Draco's cheeks turned a darker shade of their usual pale and he inclined his head towards Harry, giving him a small smile and a look that read 'we need to talk', both of which went unnoticed by anyone else at the table.

At the end of the feast, Headmistress McGonagall wished them a Merry Christmas and sent the, once again, full and sleepy students off to bed. Harry ambled slowly in the corridor, apprehensive about his looming encounter with Draco. He watched Ron and Hermione stumble slightly drunkenly – there had been firewhisky at the feast for those old enough to drink it – into their room and smiled at little at thought of the 'after-dark' activities they were bound to get up to behind closed doors; he hadn't missed Ron not-so-subtly sliding his hand up Hermione's thigh under the table while they were eating.

He sighed and pushed open the door to the room he shared with Draco, to be met by said blond sitting on his bed and trying to look composed. He smiled nervously and shut the door behind him, his brain already taking in the features of Draco that made his heart speed up and his cheeks flush slightly. "Hey…" He said, rather eloquently he thought, given the fact that his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth.

"Hey."

"I umm… I got the gloves. They're really great. Thankyou."

Draco smiled at him, his face a little white with nerves. "You're welcome."

Harry pulled out the package he had purposely left out of his trunk and handed it to Draco. "I uhh… I got you something to. It's not much but…" His voice tailed off as Draco accepted the package. "You can open it now if you want."

The blond nodded and neatly unwrapped the scarf, letting it run through his fingers. He spotted the silver dragon and smiled up at Harry. "It's perfect."

Harry returned the smile, unsure of what to say next as his gaze dropped to his feet.

"Harry… I got you something else too… It's a little difficult to wrap, so you'll have to forgive me."

Harry blinked as Draco stood and moved slowly into his space. The blond raised his wand and pointed it at the ceiling above them, where a sprig of mistletoe instantly blossomed. He lowered his arm and leaned closer until their faces were inches apart, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Harry." And closed the distance between their lips.

Harry's world exploded as Draco's lips gently caressed his own. He kissed back as best as he could, a dull thought somewhere in back of his brain wondered if he was good enough at this for Draco just before it was swept away by a graceful brush of soft lips against his own; and judging from the arm that swept around his waist, pulling him against a firm chest, and the hand that was tangled in his hair, Draco was just fine with his technique. Harry let his own arms wrap around Draco, clutching at the fabric at the back of his robes as his senses were overwhelmed by the feel, taste and scent of the boy he was kissing. He tilted his chin up a little and parted his lips just slightly as he felt Draco's tongue running lightly along the bottom one. The blond seized his chance and dipped his tongue into the wet cavern, mapping it out as his own moan mingled with Harry's in their mouths as the shorter boy tentatively let his tongue glide over Draco's.

When air became a necessity, they broke the fervent kiss but remained locked in each other's embrace as Draco rested his heated forehead against Harry's scarred one, both boys panting for breath. It was Harry who finally broke the peaceful silence that rested over them. "I don't think I have anything else to give you in return." He opened his eyes and blinked at Draco, a small smile spreading over his swollen lips.

Draco looked back at him and chuckled softly, his breath brushing across Harry's flushed cheeks. "How about more kisses like this?"

Harry nodded as he rested his head more securely against Draco's. "I'd like that."

They spent the remainder of the evening in each other's arms, shyly ghosting their fingers through each other's hair and placing tender kisses on one another's lips and neck. They talked like had done in the past, but this was much more intimate as Harry sat curled up next to Draco in one of the armchairs by the dying fire, the blond's cheek resting on top of his head as a hand wrapped around his waist, gently holding him close.

When the time came that they could both barely keep their eyes open, they changed into their pyjamas and Draco cautiously ushered Harry closer. They spent the night wrapped in each other's arms under Draco's deep green blankets; Harry's head tucked securely under Draco's chin as they slept.


	11. Fate Has Lousy Timing

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Okay, there's fluff in the beginning; and a little bit of separation angst towards the end :(**

* * *

Harry woke the next morning with an odd feeling of pure contentment washing over him and a blissful warmth draped over his back; snaking around his waist. He smiled peacefully and shuffled back into the heat, but stiffened when the body it was emanating from moved forward to meet him halfway. He relaxed as the memories of what had happened the night before came flooding back, and his smile widened. He turned gently in Draco's arms to face the other boy, warm arms around his waist burning their mark against the exposed skin of his hips, where the T-shirt he slept in had ridden up during the night.

Draco blinked sleepily as Harry looked at him, a slow, tranquil smile gracing his features as he took in the sight of Harry while his brain was pulling him back into consciousness. His blond hair fell softly against his pale cheek and he squeezed the other boy lightly before leaning in and claiming Harry's dark lips for the first time that day in a soft, chaste kiss.

Harry could feel his cheeks becoming tinged with pink; turning them a dusky rose colour as Draco kissed him. He placed his right hand against the blond's firm chest; working his left under the arm Draco still had wrapped around his waist so he could embrace him further, and snuggled closer; pressing their chests together.

Draco lay his head back on the pillow and whispered a soft "Morning Harry…" as he gazed at him appreciatively.

Harry grinned back and settled his own head on the pillows as he mumbled back a sleepy "Morning…"

They lay there for several more minutes, content just to wake up slowly with the other's arms wrapped around them and the scent of the other boy filling their noses. Eventually, they had to concede to the calling of the outside world and reluctantly pulled back the blankets and began to ready themselves to face the day, throwing each other shy glances across the room as they dressed combed their hair; Draco laughing at Harry's failed attempts to make his hair lie flat while Harry marvelled at the blond's ability to look effortlessly perfect.

Neither boy was sure if they should reveal this new… _whatever_ it was between them to the general public just yet, so they agreed to keep it quiet until they were sure what was going on, and if other people would be as accepting as they themselves were. That meant that they couldn't walk down to the Thestral-drawn carriages that would take them down to the platform hand-in-hand, nor could they snuggle closely together in their compartment on the train. Harry didn't regret what he was doing with Draco, so far it had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made in his life, and he'd been kissing the boy for less than a day. No, what Harry regretted was the timing. Why hadn't he just given in to his instincts and pounced on Draco when he'd first started having those dreams about him? The blond had informed him that the very same day Harry had smelled Draco in the _Amortentia_, Draco had inhaled the scent of Harry in the potion's fumes. So the chances were, if Harry _had_ pounced… He wouldn't have been rejected. But he had waited until Draco had made the first move. And now, just when they had finally revealed their feelings to one another; Harry and Draco would be separated for three whole weeks over the Christmas holidays. He cursed Fate's lousy timing and sighed deeply.

Draco looked up from across the room at Harry's sigh. "Harry? You okay?"

The other boy looked back at him, his green eyes swirling with a sad irritation. "Yeah… Just, gonna miss you over the holidays…" Harry could feel the blush rising in his cheeks as he admitted this thought to Draco. The blond smiled and swept across the room to slip his arms around Harry's waist again, letting him rest his forehead against his chest once more. He dipped his head and murmured into Harry's ear, "Write to me over the break? I'll miss you just as much as you'll miss me."

Harry nodded and lifted his head from Draco's body, reaching up to kiss him soundly.

When they broke apart, Draco looked at Harry with a soft regret in his eyes. "Come on; we'd better get going." Harry looked down at their intertwined fingers for the last time for three whole weeks. "Yeah, I guess we'd better."

They stepped out of their room and walked lazily in unison down to the front doors where they met Ron and Hermione already in line waiting to be sent down to a carriage. The couple joined them and they spent the journey to the platform as a slightly uncomfortable – Ron still didn't trust Draco completely, and Hermione wasn't exactly one hundred percent over her natural defensiveness around him – group of four. When they finally boarded the train, they joined a compartment already occupied by Luna and Neville and the six of them sat quietly; playing a few games of exploding snap and chatting about their plans for the holidays – Draco would be spending them with his parents, Ron and Hermione would be staying at The Burrow with Harry joining them from Grimmauld Place on Christmas Day and Luna and her father had been invited to spend Christmas with Neville and his family.

For Harry, the train ride was nearly unbearable, and he assumed it would be the same for Draco. He itched to sit closer to the blond; to brush their hands together surreptitiously, maybe even rest his hand on that toned thigh for a few moments, or perhaps just launch himself at the other and claim those still slightly swollen lips with his own. But he couldn't. Not without attracting a lot of unwanted attention and prompting even more confusing questions from his friends. If he wanted what he had with Draco to last, he had to keep it quiet for now.

After several long, torturous hours during which all Harry and Draco exchanged were stolen glances and friendly conversation, they finally reached their destination of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Collecting together their luggage and wishing the group a "Merry Christmas", Harry and Draco were the last to leave the compartment; staying behind just a little longer than necessary to exchange a heated glance that conveyed both boys' regret that they would be separated for almost a month. They didn't dare risk once last kiss as there were too many people walking down the corridor to disembark the train, but the look in each other's eyes let both of them know they desperately wanted to.

Walking down the corridor with Draco as they dragged their trunks along with them, and knowing that at the end of their short journey he wouldn't see the other boy again, almost made Harry seriously contemplate barricading himself and the blond in one of the compartments and refusing to come out.

Stepping out on to the platform, he brushed against Draco and clasped his free hand in his own – squeezing lightly - for a mere second before dragging his trunk over to where Ron and Hermione stood waiting for him. Turning on the spot; the three of them apparated to their respective homes for the holidays; Harry straining to catch one last glimpse of Draco meeting with the tiny house elf that had been sent to escort him home from the station; before he disappeared to Grimmauld Place.


	12. A Crowded Christmas Alone

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**This is the last of today's five chapters! More ARE coming, I promise!!**

**I realy enjoyed writing this chapter; it was nice to look at things from Draco's POV for a change... =D**

* * *

Three days later, Harry was sitting on the plush rug on the floor of his living room, underneath the huge Christmas tree by the fireplace. Kreacher had decorated the giant tree with red and gold baubles; silver tinsel draped around its branches and a bright, crystal star sat at the very top, the sunlight streaming through the window hitting its surface and casting rainbows all round the room.

It was Christmas morning and Harry turned to his giggling godson; helping him unwrap the toy broomstick he had bought him as a gift; while the boy's grandmother – Andromeda Tonks – chuckled softly at Teddy's hair as it turned the colour of the violet wrapping paper Harry had chosen to envelop the broom in. The boy was barely a year old, but Harry felt that it was never too early to start learning about flying. He'd received a broom from his own godfather on _his_ very first Christmas afterall. He smiled down at the small child as Teddy Lupin let out a shriek of delight as he at last discovered what his present was. He beamed up at Harry, silently pleading with his godfather to test it out that very moment.

His face splitting into a wide grin, Harry lifted the boy on to the broom, steadying him as he muttered words of encouragement to Teddy; the broom lifting a few inches off the ground.

"That's it Teddy," Harry laughed at the look of shock on his godson's face as the broom began to move and he shuffled forward on his knees so he could keep supporting the child with his hands around the small boy, "Careful now."

Harry marvelled to himself that the first time he had spent time with Teddy as his official godfather, he had been afraid of the fragile infant in his arms. The boy would rely entirely upon him, and him alone, for everything he needed, and needed to be taught. He knew that at this point, it was far beyond his capabilities to take care of a baby himself and Andromeda had agreed to help Harry out, taking care of the child for the most part and allowing Harry to visit whenever he could, which was usually once or twice a week. His visits, however, had dwindled since he'd returned to Hogwarts and Harry hadn't seen his godson for a little over three months. He was amazed at how much he'd grown to love the little boy, and just how much he'd missed him during term time.

He'd grown to love Andromeda during the time they'd spent together too. She'd become like a loving aunt towards Harry and helping him with every question he had; whether it was to do with the baby or not. Currently, she was sitting on the sofa and observing the scene just a few feet away as Teddy's face lit up and Harry grinned widely at the small boy as he rode the broom proudly. On her lap sat a box of her favourite chocolates and bath scents Harry had bought her; it was a perfect gift as she saw no need for extravagance; some chocolate and hot bath was her heaven on earth, and Harry knew her far too well. She glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece.

"Harry, dear. Shouldn't we be getting to The Burrow? Molly will start fretting if we're late." She smiled down at the two boys on the rug, not wanting to spoil their fun; but knowing that an enormous and festive Christmas party was awaiting them at the Weasley's home.

Harry glanced up the clock and nodded. "Come on Teddy; she's right." He lifted the boy off the broom and shrunk the remaining presents under the tree and began putting them into the bag that already contained the presents for his friends. "We can unwrap the rest of the presents when we get to The Burrow."

They floo'd to Ron's home, Harry carrying his rucksack full of gifts and feeling a bit like Santa, Andromeda carrying little Teddy on her hip. Stumbling out of the fireplace, Harry was greeted with cheers and handed a drink of firewhiskey before he was enveloped in the arms of Molly Weasley. She had lost rather a lot of weight since Fred's death, as had George, and there was a slightly subdued atmosphere about the house as the family spent its first Christmas without one of their children. Nobody had let it get on top of him or her however, everyone was determined to enjoy the holiday with the remaining friends and family they had, now more aware than ever of how much they meant.

Bill and Fleur were seated close together, smiling and laughing as Charlie and Percy argued jovially over something trivial. George and Ginny were taking it turns to hex Charlie and Percy's jumpers; seeing which one of them would get caught out first as they edited the lettering on their older brothers' Christmas presents. Ron and Hermione were curled up in an armchair together, grinning happily at Harry and Andromeda as they arrived.

"Harry! Merry Christmas dear, how have you been? Sit down, sit down… There's got to be room somewhere," Mrs. Weasley released him and bustled around the entirely too-small room, moving discarded wrapping paper and ribbons until there was space enough for the three new arrivals to sit down. Ginny immediately took Teddy from his grandmother and she, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the floor, amusing the little boy and exchanging the gifts they had bought - Hermione gasping with delight as she unwrapped an in-depth encyclopaedia of 'Useful Spells for Unusual Situations' Harry had bought her, and Ron punched him playfully on arm as he revealed a Chudley Cannons Broom Servicing Kit, wrapped in customary orange paper. Ginny hugged Harry tightly as she tore the paper off a box of her favourite honey and cinnamon sweets, plus the biography of Gwenog Jones – captain of her favourite team, the Holyhead Harpies.

A few minutes later, dinner was served in the small, cluttered kitchen and everyone trooped through to devour the workings of Mrs. Weasley. Harry sat at the large table next to Bill and Ron as everyone helped themselves to turkey, potatoes, an assortment of other meats and roast vegetables, wide variety of sauces and snacks and finally sloshing homemade gravy over the lot.

There were loud and cheerful discussions and raucous laughter exploded all over the table in intermittent bursts as everyone piled their plates high in good spirits and company, chuckling as Teddy poked at his mashed potato and attempted to mould it into several shapes before trying to stuff the whole lot in his mouth at once. Harry was in the middle of an argument with Ron, Bill and George about which Quidditch team was likely to win top of the British League this year – Ron ever insistent that it would _finally_ be the orange-clad Cannons and Bill arguing for the side of the Montrose Magpies. Harry and George were arguing the case of the Kenmare Kestrels; a team that Harry had recently discovered Draco had also been a fan of since he was five.

This thought made him reminiscent of the blond and he noticed now, that to his left, although they were both involved in separate discussions, Bill had his arm around Fleur's waist and she a gentle hand on his knee. To his right, Hermione had her head rested on Ron's shoulder as she flicked happily through her newest book. Nothing could have made him miss Draco more as he stared around at the happy couples that surrounded him on all sides, and he wished now more than ever that he had an owl, a piece of parchment and a quill, and perhaps some peace and quiet so he could write to the boy currently occupying his thoughts.

-x-

Draco pushed the food around his expensive plate forlornly, taking in the exquisite preparation of the finest ingredients money could buy that had gone into the Malfoy Christmas dinner. He sat on a straight-backed and elegant, eighteenth-century Venetian chair as he poked at the delightfully seasoned pheasant with the solid silver Malfoy cutlery that had been in their family for generations. He had always taken pride and enjoyment in the finer things in life; money, food, art and literature and, of course, historical furniture; all of which he had. No longer. He still appreciated all the fine things his family owned and his well-trained eye never failed to spot the quality only large amounts of gold could buy, but he was no longer as proud of the fact that he had it in his home as he once was.

Currently, he would have been much happier dining in the home of a certain Gryffindor and hopefully _not_ wearing the uncomfortable and starched formal robes he was presently dressed in. He would have much preferred a meal that was lumpy and burned, like it was sure to be, if Harry and himself had cooked it together over a hot bottle of firewhiskey which they would share, along with many jokes and kisses as they inevitably ruined their dinner.

Draco sighed and took a bite of his food. Ugh. It was cold. He looked up and met his mother's gaze that had been fixed on him for several minutes now.

"Mother, may I please be excused?"

She nodded; her eyes full of concern for her only child at Christmas.

Draco stood and cast her a look of reassurance: he was not ill. As much as he loved the way his mother had fussed over him in the past, now he felt suffocated by her when she over-worried. He was grateful that he had her and she cared however. He knew a certain raven-haired boy that would have been outraged at the thought that Draco didn't care about his parents. He did, however, and he knew they were probably closer than most families with everything they had been through, even if they didn't show it on the surface. Malfoys were famed for putting on a sneering, smirking mask that only another Malfoy could see through. They could read the slightest signs in each other perfectly, and also knew that they each preferred to solve their own problems personally, so interference from his parents into Draco's life was rare - unless he needed it.

He strolled from the enormous dining room, his expensive shoes echoing with each step he took across the marbled floor. Taking the staircase to his right, he ascended the three floors to his private quarters, and once inside, swept over to his mahogany desk and sat down. Pulling out a sheet of fresh parchment and an eagle-feather quill; he proceeded to write a letter to Harry.


	13. Love Letters

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**A huge thankyou to all the lovely people who reviewed the last update, it means a LOT to me; the feedback is wonderful!**

**Draco has a little bit of "self-love" towards the end of this chapter; watch out ;) We're finally starting to get to the action guys!**

Everyone was seated back in the living room on the sagging over-used furniture, and soft groaning was emitting from random people as they all lazed around with hands over their stomachs, everyone absolutely stuffed and having eaten far more than they should have. Teddy was upstairs, sleeping in Ginny – and for the holidays – Hermione's room, as Mrs. Weasley had objected to Ron sharing his room with her for the break, despite them sharing while they were at Hogwarts. A combination of good food and alcohol had lead to everyone slipping into an almost stupor-like state.

It was because of this, that - at first - the handsome, dark-feathered owl carrying a letter addressed to Harry went unnoticed. It pecked incessantly at the window for a few moments before setting the letter down on the sill and emitting a loud screech. Percy was closest to the window and he rose stiffly, opening it and taking the letter from beneath the owl's feet. The bird hopped inside and flew over to Harry, resting on the arm of his chair expectantly. Harry blinked stupidly, before realising that it must be waiting for a reply of some sort to the letter it had delivered. He took the heavy parchment gratefully from Percy and let the owl rest on his arm as he excused himself to make his slow way up the stairs to Ron's room, where he would be sleeping for the night, to answer the letter privately.

Settling himself down at Ron's messy and cluttered desk, he unfolded the parchment carefully as the owl which had delivered it hopped on to the desk; finding a small space amongst the items which littered it and rested it head under its wing while it waited for the reply.

Harry scanned the first few lines of the neat letter, his heart speeding up as he realised it was from Draco, and he couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

_Dear Harry,_

_I've always been taught that a Malfoy such as myself should wait a minimum of five days before contacting a potential courting partner after a first encounter. Father always instructed that anything sooner than that would make me appear desperate; and a Malfoy retains composure at all times._

_Seeing that written down makes it look as ridiculous as I have always felt our little 'tradition' to be. With you, Harry, five days is simply far too long, but I've waited three in an attempt to please Father. Before your eyes widen with shock as I know they will, no. He doesn't know about us. What kind of idiot do you take me for? I am not the weasel._

_Sitting downstairs at dinner, as exquisite and extravagant as it was, made me realise that I miss you Harry. As unfortunate as it is, we cannot meet during the break. Mother would want to know where exactly I am going, and who with. It is far too complicated to fabricate some lie about arranging an engagement with friends when I am still struggling in that particular area. I'm certain our Floo network is also still under loose observation by the Ministry, so we cannot meet that way either._

_I have reached the conclusion that the only way we can communicate this holiday is by letter; and I hope this one finds you in good health and spirits. Merry Christmas Harry,_

_Yours,_

_Draco._

Harry grinned as he traced Draco's elegant, inked script with his fingers. It certainly wasn't the romantic poem from a far off lover that often arrived in books and films; but it was full of Draco's characteristic quirks, and Harry loved them. Only he could refer to what they had between them as "potential courting partners". He smiled at Draco's trademark insult of Ron, knowing that it was no longer full of the previous venom and spite it had once been.

Though a little saddened by his logical reasoning that they really shouldn't meet up during the break, it pleased Harry to see the blond's bold admittance that he missed him. He knew that Draco would never admit to missing anyone outright, so he felt touched that the other had confided the tiny piece of valuable information about himself to Harry.

Pulling a sheet of fresh parchment towards him and summoning a quill and some ink, he penned his reply to Draco carefully.

_Dear Draco,_

_I thought you wouldn't write to me at all. You've always been such a proud, stuck-up git. Glad to see you've gotten over it. I miss you too. Though people surrounded me today, none of them were you. Has it really only been three days? It feels like much longer._

_And please don't insult my friends. You know they still call you 'Ferret' behind your back, don't you? Good._

_I know you said it wouldn't be advisable to see each other, but are you free at midnight on New Year's Eve? There's a certain tradition I'd quite like to carry out with you in relation to that time._

_And is it really necessary to be so formal when you introduced yourself to my tonsils less than a week ago?_

_Harry._

Harry silently thanked the three or four glasses of magical liquor he'd had to drink during the day as he woke the sleeping owl and tied the loosely rolled scroll of parchment to its leg. He'd never have been able to write a letter like that to Draco sober. Hopefully it would break the ice that appeared to have formed between them due to distance and time as they fell back into stiff habits.

He watched the owl fly off into the distance nervously as he observed his reply moving further and further away. Standing up rather ungracefully in the now dark room, he moved out to the hall and made his way back down to the living room, flopping down on to his empty chair and answering the questioning looks he received with a "Letter from some journalist. Told them to stop working over the holiday period and go eat some turkey."

This raised a few laughs and soon everyone was back in conversation again as they digested their enormous portions of food; Mr. Weasley quizzing Harry and Hermione on a range of Muggle items and their uses, while Percy and Charlie chased lazily after George and Ginny, having finally discovered the edited lettering on their knitted jumpers and and Andromeda chatted amicably between themselves.

Much later into the evening when everyone had drunk far more than was necessary and attempted to dance their way around the crowded living room to the Muggle tune "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" and several other popular carols, both wizarding and non-wizarding, everyone once again collapsed laughing and tired back into their respective seats where they remained for another hour or two before dragging their heavy selves to bed.

Climbing into the small camp bed in Ron's room, Harry thought about Draco and his letter as he pulled the sheets over himself, falling into a deep sleep grinning inanely at the thought of the blond and resisting the temptation to encourage the growing erection that was trying to make itself known as his thoughts turned to ones less and less acceptable in polite society.

Several miles away, a certain Slytherin did not have to resist that particular temptation. With nobody to disturb him, Draco let his hand wander south, dipping past the waistband of his nightwear; thoughts and images of Harry whirling around his fogged brain as he gripped his hardening, swollen cock; gently caressing himself as his release built up. With each stroke of his hand he imagined that it was Harry's fingers that closed around the base of his cock, Harry's thumb that teased the dripping slit with its soft pad, Harry's gentle caresses that were placed on the skin of his sac, weighing and fondling his balls as though they were precious jewels and applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure Draco's pleasure heightened with each swift jerk he gave himself. He let his free hand wander back up to brush against his chest, and he pinched a pert nipple, gasping at the sudden, short wave of pleasure that cascaded through him at the simple touch as he continued to move his other hand over his cock, imagining it still to be Harry that was touching him.

When white finally overcame his vision, the sticky liquid that spilled from him was accompanied by a soft moan of a certain black-haired Gryffindor's name as he lay back against the fluffy pillows, panting hard.

* * *


	14. A Conversation In Ink

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.

* * *

**

Harry awoke late that Boxing Day to the sound of Ron's snores filling the room once again, and the delighting smells of a promising breakfast being cooked in the kitchen downstairs. Though his stomach felt a little queasy from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed the night before; he hadn't really drunk that much and the sensation was overridden by hunger as the scent of his favourite pancakes drifted up towards Ron's bedroom.

He poked the redhead awake and went to get dressed, leaving the sleep-ridden Ron to decipher that the smells currently wafting under his door meant food; which was currently more desirable than lying in his warm bed with no food.

The boys trooped downstairs a few minutes later, chatting and joking with one another as their stomachs rumbled. As soon as that entered the kitchen, Harry was greeted by a squeal from Teddy and he happily lifted the little boy from his willing grandmother's arms; starting to tickle him playfully as they took their empty seats at the breakfast table. Fleur served him the pancakes he'd come for and he smiled gratefully at her as he placed his godson on his lap. Ron was already piling his plate high with bacon, eggs, sausages and tomato sauce, Hermione shaking her head in resignation at him as she continued to scan her textbooks over her breakfast; determined to keep up with her schoolwork, even though she had already finished all their holiday assignments. Ginny laughed at the couple and turned back to her honey-covered porridge and her discussion with Bill and George, muttering something about 'old married couple' as she spooned a small bite of the sweetened mush into Teddy's waiting mouth.

Harry grinned at her as Teddy pleaded with his big - and currently bright green - eyes to him for a bite of Harry's own breakfast. He chuckled and cut a tiny portion of blueberry pancake for the little boy and placed it in his mouth. The boy chewed thoughtfully before eventually swallowing and grinning again. Harry kissed the top of his head before saying "No more Teddy. You've got your own breakfast to eat." The boy pouted, but put up no resistance when he was lifted off Harry's lap and back into Andromeda's arms to finish his breakfast of mashed bananas.

Once the meal was over, Harry, Andromeda and Teddy made their rounds with the Weasleys, thanking them for their various gifts and promising to meet up and visit again soon before taking the Floo Network back to Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Kreacher, who bowed very low to Harry and thanked his master for his Christmas gift, greeted them as they arrived. Harry smiled; "You're welcome Kreacher, just don't get me any maggots in return this year, ok?" He left the kitchen, chuckling and promising to call his elf should he need anything.

After saying their own goodbyes, Andromeda and Teddy headed back to their own home as the young boy was still tired from the day before. Harry smiled and waved them off, sighing inwardly as he now had no excuses or distractions so he could avoid doing the mountains of homework they had been assigned over the break.

Just as he had made his way up to the study however, Kreacher appeared in front of him, carrying a letter. "This just arrived for you, Master Potter Sir." He handed the parchment over and bowed low, disappearing again as Harry took it.

A grin spreading across his face, Harry sat down at the desk as he open the sealed letter, recognising the handwriting immediately.

_Dear Harry,_

_Yes, it has only been three days. Well, four now, but that is beside the point. I apologise for not replying to your letter sooner. Father called me away from my desk._

_I resent you calling me a git, you prat. And of course I'm perfectly aware your friends still refer to me as 'Ferret'. I resent that too. Although I may point out that the weasel cannot talk._

_In reference to your request to carry out a certain tradition on New Year's Eve, when and where? I'm perfectly sure I can feign illness or tiredness to escape early enough to meet you._

_Draco._

_P.S. Of course it is necessary to be formal. Malfoys always treat a potential love interest with care and respect. Even if they do have a spectacular arse, we try not to make it a focal point when thinking about them. Allowances, however, must be made occasionally._

Harry couldn't stop his smile from widening with each word he read. The last letter he had received from Draco had seemed so formal; so like the old Malfoy he knew that he was worried time and distance between them was making Draco regress and slip into his old habits, so much so that when they returned to school, he may have rethought his decisions and actions about and towards Harry. This latest letter however, reassured him that Draco was still interested in him. He'd even managed to slip in a joke or two! Harry felt a light blush creeping up from his collar at the implication that Draco had not only _noticed_ his arse – which in turn implied he'd been _looking_ – but had also commented on the fact that he thought it was "spectacular".

Once again, he pulled a fresh sheet of parchment towards him and instantly began to pen his reply with his favourite quill.

_Dear Draco,_

_No need to explain, I understand._

_You resent a lot of things. However, I did not hear you mention the fact that I was not there beside you in that list of things to resent. Is there perhaps another? I fear there may be, as you refer to me as only a 'potential' love interest. That implies that I am one of many of which you have your eye on._

_Meet me at the Black family residence at 11 o'clock on December 31__st__._

_Harry._

_P.S. Of course he can talk. You've been getting his heritage all mixed up. He is, in fact, a Jarvey. Not a weasel. Pay more attention in Care of Magical Creatures._

_P.P.S. Your arse isn't that bad either. I am not a Malfoy and so am under no obligation not to think about it at every possible free moment. In fact, I'm thinking about it right now._

Harry smirked and rolled up the letter, sealing it with a tap from his wand. He strolled down the stairs and found the same dark owl that had delivered the first letter waiting for him in his kitchen. He smiled and fed the faithful bird a treat before tying the scroll to its leg and letting it fly out the open window.

-x-

Harry was halfway through a Charms essay in his study when Draco's reply arrived; the dark owl looking a little disgruntled and sleepy by this point – gliding in gracefully through the window left open for its use and Harry eagerly ripped open the sealed letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_You're such a Gryffindor. Any Slytherin worth the title knows that once you spot a fine specimen, you stop all pursuit of others in favour of the best. And just so you know, no other specimens have caught my fancy the way you have._

_I also do not resent the fact that you are not beside me. For if you were; I would be doing something a lot more interesting than writing you a letter. And don't you dare call me a pervert after that comment about my arse. Malfoys are also blessed with rather a lot of free time, in case you were wondering._

_I'll be there._

_Draco._

_P.S. How dare you insinuate I do not pay attention in class. If _you _had paid any attention you would have realised that a Jarvey more closely resembles a ferret than a weasel, and I would not make such a mistake as to confuse the two._

Harry laughed as he set the letter aside, smiling to himself. The owl that had delivered it looked exhausted, and he let it sleep up on Hedwig's old perch after feeding it a couple of treats from the store he kept. He felt that Draco's letter didn't need an urgent reply as they had confirmed plans to meet up in less than a week anyway. Still smiling to himself at the thought of the approaching encounter, he picked up his quill and returned to his work; repeatedly having to vanish the word "Draco" from the essays he was penning.


	15. New Year, New Adventures

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**Finally! The chapter you've all been waiting for! New Years! Enjoy, and be warned there is a little action in here ;)**

Harry sat impatiently on the sofa, fidgeting and twitching and keeping one eye on the clock, hoping that by the sheer power of his will, he could speed time up. He had been sitting in his seat for the past fifteen minutes, although he'd been ready for Draco's arrival for an hour previously. It was the first time they'd see each other outside of school on more-than-friendly terms, and he was nervous. He ran his hands over his black slack-clad thighs once again, drying his lightly perspiring palms as he wondered if the bottle-green shirt that was just a _little_ too tight, so it showed off his toned chest, was too much. He had left the top two buttons undone in an effort to make it look less formal, but it had a side-effect of exposing a little more of himself than he normally would. Harry hoped it would entice Draco, and not give him the impression that he was needy, and a slut. He had also attempted to comb his hair in a feeble bid to make it lie flat, but had given up and thrown his comb at the mirror after its fifth comment that it was a battle he would never win.

Kreacher was on stand-by to provide Draco with everything he needed once he had arrived; although the little elf looked slightly mutinous, as Harry had made him take a bath in order to look more presentable. He was waiting in the kitchen, having prepared the boys some drinks, and was now sweeping away invisible specks of dust that would infuriate any respectable Black family heir.

At five to eleven, Harry stood up and began pacing the room, unable to sit still any longer. His heart rate had accelerated and he clenched and unclenched his shaking fists in an attempt to work out some of the adrenaline in his system. He wondered when the prospect of seeing Draco had started to have this effect on him; why he suddenly _had_ to impress the boy with everything about him; his appearance; his home; his personality; his conversational skills. Harry's heart stopped at the thought. He'd invited Draco over an _hour_ early. He'd have to make conversation with the boy for a _whole_ hour; all the while knowing that at midnight, he'd have to kiss him, and the kiss had to be _perfect_. Harry thought he might have started hyperventilating, had there not been three precise knocks on the front door. He looked at the clock. Eleven o'clock precisely. It was Draco.

Kreacher hurried past him to the door as Harry stepped out of the living room and into the hall; throwing a glance at Mrs. Black's portrait; that had finally been silenced by some rather clever spellwork on Hermione's behalf. The curtains were open and the old hag was screaming at the top of her voice; but not a sound could be heard. He flicked his wand in the direction of the painting and drapes slid slowly shut as Kreacher open the heavy door to reveal the tall, slim figure of Draco Malfoy on Harry's doorstep.

Instantly, all Harry's worried were dispersed as he took in the sight of Draco standing there. His white-blond hair was expertly styled and few strands hung loosely about his face, straying from the rest, which was beautifully swept back from his aristocratic profile. His ivory skin gleamed in the moonlight; accentuating the high cheekbones and molten silver colour of his trademark Malfoy eyes. As he stepped over the threshold of the house and unfastened the black travelling clock, Harry saw he was dressed in charcoal grey slacks not unlike his own, and a smart black and grey pinstriped shirt which was left unbuttoned at the top, exposing his unmarked, elegantly pale neck. The Malfoy smirk appeared on his pointed features as Harry remained stationary; staring at him. Kreacher bowed low, taking the cloak from "Master Malfoy" and scurrying away to hang it up and collect the refreshments Harry had ordered to be served in the lounge upon Draco's arrival.

Harry blinked and came to his senses, letting out a soft, ungainly croak as he tried to speak. Draco chuckled.

"Eloquent as ever, Harry." He moved closer, stepping towards the other boy until he stood in his space and leaned down slightly to whisper in his ear, "I assure you, I would have done the same thing, had it not been so cold outside."

"Eeerk…" Harry mentally groaned at his ability to embarrass himself at the most inappropriate of times.

Draco chuckled openly at his latest exclamation and leaned in to kiss him softly. It was brief and subdued, but honest at the same time, as both boys felt and conveyed just how much they'd missed each other during the short period they'd been apart.

Harry pulled back a little and smiled up at Draco, "Hey… You were supposed to wait until midnight to do that…" He grinned and checked his watch. "You're fifty seven minutes too early."

Draco grinned and then laughed. "Well, I haven't kissed you in nearly nine days… Surely one little kiss is allowed?"

Harry smiled and led him through to the lounge, where Kreacher had discreetly served them butterbeer and their mutual favourite Honeyduke's chocolate.

They sat on the same sofa as one another and soon became lost in conversation. Harry had had nothing to worry about during the moments that he had feared talking to Draco would be awkward: they slipped back into their discussions as if they had never been apart. They talked about their Christmas' – Harry having to fill Draco in about Teddy Lupin, which was ironic seeing as the boy's grandmother was Draco's aunt – Quidditch, Ron-and-Hermione, their suspicions about Luna-and-Neville, and what they would do once Hogwarts was over. During the time they talked, neither noticed that they were gradually drifting closer and closer together - as though drawn to each other – until their knees and shoulders brushed together simultaneously and they both looked up from their drinks in surprise.

Draco reached for Harry's hand and gave it a light squeeze as the other boy blushed and looked at the blond; smiling. He brushed an unruly strand of dark hair out of Harry's eyes and locked his gaze with the emerald pools. Whatever he had been going to say – or do – was interrupted by the chiming of the grandfather clock out in the hall. They both jumped as the sound echoed into the room and Harry looked at his watch stupidly. "Blimey, is it-" But he was cut off as Draco pulled him close and whispered a hurried "Happy New Year, Harry" before pressing his pale lips to Harry's slightly darker ones.

The kiss was just as good, if not better, than their first kiss had been, under the mistletoe back in their shared room at Hogwarts. Draco's arm found its way back around Harry's waist and pulled him closer as his other hand found its way to the back of his head, making quick work of dishevelling the already messy shock of dark hair. The shorter boy was forced to tilt his chin up just slightly to meet Draco's lips, and this acted to the blond's advantage as he made an easy task of slipping his wicked tongue past Harry's parted lips; delving into his mouth and starting a war for dominance between their slick muscles as one of Harry's hands rested on the side of his head, the palm resting against his racing pulse point as Harry's thumb gently brushed against the line of his jaw tentatively. Draco felt Harry lick teasingly at his lower lip before the other boy's tongue dipped forward into his own mouth and began mapping out all Harry found there as he tasted the beauty of Draco.

They kissed well past the end of the midnight chimes, breaking apart only so they could both gasp for lost breath. The blond lay back against the sofa, he cheeks flushed as he pulled Harry along with him and shifted a little so the dark-haired boy was forced to rest on top of his lithe body. The action caused their groins to brush together and they both let out wanton groans as their aching erections that had resulted from the fiery kiss, received much needed attention. Draco arched his back in a primal urge to seek more of the sensation it caused, and moved his hips as Harry responded by grinding forcefully against him. The taller boy gripped the sides of Harry's arms and rolled them over, pinning Harry to his own couch as they both continued the motions of their hips, letting out soft moans and gasps of enjoyment and pleasure as they set a rhythm between them.

The shorter boy's gasps at the sensations below his waist, were mingled with a cry; caused by Draco latching on to his neck; his tongue lavishing the sensitive skin beneath it, as his white teeth nibbled and bit gently; the blond boy working to leave a mark that would both claim Harry as his own and act as a reminder of tonight's activities.

They set a brutal pace between them, grinding their hips against one another, only concerned with how to make the feeling in their crotches more and more pleasurable. Harry let out an ungraceful grunt as a particularly hard thrust from Draco's hips made his normally loose slacks feel entirely too tight around his throbbing erection, and he bent his legs at the knee; spreading them and allowing Draco to settle between his thighs as he wrapped them around the taller boy's waist. Arching his back, Harry somehow managed to roll the two boys over, reversing their positions and pinning Draco underneath him; his legs still spread so he was straddling the blond as they each continued to seek out the heat stemming from the other with their hips; letting out moans of pleasure as they felt each other's hardness through their layers of clothing.

As the pace between their hips quickened and their movements became more and more frantic and erratic, Draco leaned up; seeking Harry's mouth with his own panting one and drew him back into another impassioned kiss as they both reached their climaxes simultaneously, with twin groans and mumbles of each other's names as their seed spilled from them and they collapsed, panting once again.

Draco was first to recover from their shared orgasm; raising his groggy head from the cushions on the couch, and licking the bruise he had left on Harry's throat tiredly, as the other boy slowly came down from his orgasm, panting gently; his forehead buried in Draco's shoulder. The blond groped for his wand and cast a simple cleaning charm over both of them as Harry murmured incoherently; the painful spot on his neck receiving yet _more_ attention from Draco as he licked it, but the dark-haired boy did not make any motion to move away. A satisfied smile graced his lips as he felt the cooling stickiness surrounding his crotch vanish, and he looked up at Draco. "That was good…"

The blond chuckled and licked the shell of Harry's ear. "I have to go…"

"Now?" Harry blinked and sat up, sliding from Draco's chest and looking into his grey eyes as the other nodded and copied him; pulling himself into an upright position and gently caressing Harry's still-flushed cheek.

"Mother and Father might notice I've gone if I stay much longer." His touch turned apologetic, and he let the other boy know he didn't wanted to be parted from him any more than Harry did, through the tenderness of a simple brush of his fingers upon Harry's smooth skin.

Although put out, the raven understood. If they wanted this to continue, Draco couldn't be caught sneaking out in the middle of the night to visit him; nor could he be found missing from the Manor. They stood a little haphazardly, and Kreacher brought Draco his cloak, bowing as he delivered it and disappeared from the room again. Harry showed him to the door and they kissed one final time, Draco enveloping his host in his arms; whispering "I'll write…" before he disappeared into the blackness of the first morning of the new year and leaving Harry still fresh with the thoughts of their recent activities in his mind and a blossoming purple bruise on his neck.

* * *


	16. Magical Musings

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.**

**

* * *

**

Harry hummed happily along with the music that was playing out of the ancient radio sitting on a small, carved bedside table in Sirius' old bedroom. He had long since claimed the room as his own sleeping quarters when he had moved into Grimmauld Place permanently; and was currently haphazardly throwing his robes and school books that he had scattered around the room, back into his school trunk. He glanced out the window at the darkening sky and checked his watch. Fifteen hours and forty-three minutes until he would see Draco on the Hogwarts Express again. Not that he was counting or anything. Grinning, he packed the last of his textbooks into the side of the case; threw in a couple of spare pairs of socks and locked the trunk with a flick of his wand.

He and Draco had managed to sneak away together twice more during the break; it was all that Draco had been able to manage, and in a small way, Harry was grateful for the infrequency of their meetings. The number of bruises Draco left on his neck and collarbone had increased with each visit; and he'd forgotten to cover them up the first time he'd stopped by at The Burrow; just a few days after Draco's second appearance at his home. He'd had a hard time explaining the purple blemishes on his throat to Hermione, and he was pretty sure that she still didn't believe his feeble excuses.

Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with Draco. Quite the opposite in fact. They still talked to each other; but the majority of their time was spent in Harry's bedroom. Still reserved about and – although neither would admit to it – a little afraid of doing… well, _that_ with the other,they hadn't even undressed one another yet; merely indulged in a simple exploration of each other's upper bodies with their hands while their hips repeated the experience they'd partaken in on Year's Eve and their lips and tongues barely straying from their counterparts; severing the connection between them only to gasp for lost air when necessary, or to let out moans and profanities that they hoped to Merlin nobody else could hear.

Harry shut off the music buzzing quietly in the background, and glanced out the window of his bedroom at the dark street below. It was nearing the end of January and frost littered the concrete pavement outside, twinkling in unison with the stars under the artificial orange glow of the muggle street lamps. There had been a few flakes of snow that year, but not enough to cover the ground; and Harry found himself almost missing his past Christmas' at Hogwarts, where snow had always fallen aplenty in the grounds, every year, without fail. He sighed and turned away from the view of the deserted street, waving his wand and shutting the heavy scarlet curtains that still adorned the old window frames. His gaze flitted around the "Gryffindor shrine" as Draco had called it when he first set eyes upon the room that Sirius had decorated to flaunt his allegiance to the rival house in the home of his Slytherin-orientated family. Harry wondered if the blond had decorated his room in a similar fashion to Regulus' old room; they were from the same bloodline afterall. But eventually he dismissed the thought as he climbed into the shower; Draco would never have put anything so 'personal' in his room.

-x-

In the Malfoy Manor, Draco was supervising the packing of his trunk; occasionally glancing in the vague direction of the two tiny family house-elves currently sorting various belongings into his school trunk. He could have easily have done it himself by magic; but try as he might, the objects always ended up in a jumbled mess; never in the neat, orderly manner that he so desired. Besides, the elves seemed to get some sort of strange pleasure from ordering, organising, folding and eventually packing most of his possessions into his school trunk. He didn't want to deny them of that distinct happiness; even if they did wear a look of mild terror on their faces as he over-looked their activity.

He looked around his own room; it was as empty and cold as the rest of the manor. Like living in a museum of some kind, everything in the enormous house had belonged to one of their ancestors, or been propositioned from a famous old wizard generations ago, and usually served only one purpose; to show off the vast fortunes and impeccable taste that the Malfoy family possessed. The manor lacked a 'lived-in' atmosphere as nothing - aside from the various magical oil portraits depicting Draco and his parents – was personal to the current occupants. They could so easily have been visiting the home of the Malfoy ancestors from their own abode elsewhere.

The blond-headed boy sighed; which caused the tiny elves to let out a squeak of fright and begin wondering what they had done to anger the young master. He waved them on to continue packing his trunk, flicking his wrist lazily in their general direction as his thoughts turned to Harry, as they were prone to do nowadays. A small smile graced his aristocratic profile as he pictured Harry in his own room; surrounded by a frenzy of Gryffindor-related décor. He could confidently predict that the other boy would indeed have used the spell that would have allowed him to pack his trunk with a wave of his wand – at first. After a couple of failed attempts he would have given up and done it the muggle way, like he had always done. It was one of the traits that Draco found so endearing about Harry. His muggle habits were so deeply ingrained into his nature; just as several of the Malfoy habits were ingrained into Draco's own personality; they contrasted beautifully. As much as it had been drilled into him; Draco couldn't bring himself to find Harry's non-magical customs 'filthy'. He loved the way Harry would do things by hand, preferring to work at simple things like making a cup of tea, rather than just wave his wand and let the magic work itself. There was a kind of beautiful passion in the way Harry moved and worked without magic. It wasn't that he was filthy and stupid; it was that he cared to put effort into the smallest task; Harry had the kind of character which meant he could do everyday tasks with feeling and emotion; which was something entirely new to Draco. The wizards he had been brought up around rarely did everyday tasks and if forced to, did so with a kind of resigned disgust as they lazily flicked their wand in the direction of the chore. More complicated spells were done with an air of disdain for those who couldn't perform them; which concealed their smug demeanour as they shamelessly flaunted their skills, without appearing to. They used magic for absolutely everything; and it lost the appeal that it had for wizards like Harry, who didn't rely on their magic to get them through everyday life; and still treated it as a gift, rather than a right.

Draco blinked to find the two house elves bowing before him and squeaking about having packed his trunk and run him a bath; and enquiring if there was anything else their young master desired. He thanked them and waved them away hurriedly before their eyes could widen at being appreciated for their work by a Malfoy. They disappeared with twin 'cracks' as Draco moved through to his private bathroom; quietly lamenting that he couldn't run his own bath, just for the thrill of not using magic or servants, just once.


	17. So Close, Yet So Far

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.  
**Rated:** M for language and some sexual situations.  
**Warnings: **There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

**Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.  
This chapter contains some adult themes! Be warned ;)

* * *

**

Harry awoke bright and early at 6 o'clock, on the morning he was due to return to Hogwarts. Groaning and flopping back against his pillows when he realised the time – still five hours until he would see Draco on the train again – he became aware of a mildly painful ache between his legs. He smirked as the dream he had been having came back to him in full, high definition and technicoloured detail, and felt even more of his blood rush south; increasing his already impressive erection and tenting the sheets of his bed further.

Kicking the bottoms of his sleepwear off under the blankets; he wrapped his hand around himself, hissing slightly as the cool digits contrasted with the heat of his reddening cock. Running his thumb over the slit and closing his eyes, he let out a moan and began to indulge himself in a continuation of the dream he had been having; featuring himself and a very hot, very naked, sweaty blond. He moved his hand in a slow rhythm, smearing the pre-cum as it came, over the head. The speed of his hand increased as the sensations built up; and Harry briefly wondered what he could do to make his orgasm better. He had plenty of time to experiment after all. It clicked as a select scene from his dream swam in his mind's eye.

Removing his hand and almost letting out a groan at the loss of movement, Harry sat up and groped on the nightstand for his wand. He held out his left hand in front of him; palm up and pointed his wand at it, mumbling a choice spell he had recently read about in a magazine of rather low literary context. Instantly, he felt the smooth; clear gel glide from his wand's tip on to his outstretched fingers. Smearing the substance over the length of his digits, Harry replaced his wand on the nightstand and wriggled back down to a horizontal position once more. Spreading his legs and bending them at the knee so his feet rested on the mattress, Harry fisted his cock in his right hand again and tried to relax as he slipped his left between his spread legs and began to circle his tight entrance with the slick digits. He could immediately feel the difference as he stroked himself; the pleasant tingling sensation from the fingers as they cautiously danced around his hole, combined with the hand replaced on his member made him pant slightly. He took a breath and pushed a single finger past the tight ring of muscle, breaching himself and letting out a gasp as he did so. It didn't hurt, but it felt immensely strange to have something _inside_ of him like this. He increased the pressure of the fist on his shaft as he continued his ministrations, and a moan escaped his lips as he pulled the finger out slightly and pushed back in, going deeper this time. He added a second finger out of curiosity and almost choked. This was more uncomfortable, but he worked his right hand over his impressive length - faster this time - and palming the head as he felt his muscles relax again. He scissored the fingers, letting out another gasp as he stretched himself, and pictured Draco's face above him as he worked to bring himself to completion. The hand on his cock pumped harder as he slipped his fingers in and out of his entrance repeatedly, all the while images of the blond flashing through his mind; it wasn't his own hands touching him, but Draco's ivory ones; those slender fingers probing his hole, working over his balls as he felt his climax building and smearing the clear liquid already leaking from the slit over the almost purple head.

"Draco!" The name was pulled from his throat as he came, spilling himself into his hand, with those two fingers still pressing themselves deeper inside his body.

Harry lay back against the pillows; riding the aftershocks of his orgasm as his breathing rate slowed and his sticky member slowly wilted. Sliding his fingers from himself with a groan, he groped for his wand and cast the well-practised cleaning charm over the coated areas of his skin. The messy evidence vanished and Harry rolled on to his side, a dull ache in his passage as he slowly drifted back off to sleep in the hopes of passing a couple more hours in the company of his imaginary Draco.

-x-

Draco groaned and rolled over in his queen-sized bed, his face screwed up against the incessant wailing and shrieking of his alarm clock. He cursed the day he had bought it for a rather hefty sum of gold from Borgin and Burkes.

Fumbling around for his wand he aimed a silencing spell at the damned thing and sank back into his fluffy pillows once silence reigned in his room again. Just as he was drifting back off to sleep in his own private section of the warm, comfortable heaven that was his bed; there was a deafening 'CRACK' and a house elf wearing a ratty tea towel appeared beside him; bowing low.

"Mistress Narcissa bids that Young Master Draco be getting up now," It squeaked and Draco thought that perhaps this was one of the female elves; judging from the pitch of its voice, "She is saying that she is knowing you too well and you is not wantings to be missing the train this morning."

His eyes snapped open. "The train?"

"Yes, Sir. Young Master Draco is returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this morning, Sir." The elf squeaked; its head still bowed low.

Draco nodded and sat up, rubbing his eyes as he did so. "Right, right… I'm getting up. You may leave and tell Mother."

The tiny elf vanished with an ear-splitting sound, and the blond wrenched back his blankets, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and moving over to the folded pile of clothes on his armchair in the corner. He was seeing Harry in – Draco checked the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace in his room – two hours!

Thirty minutes later – perfection took a long time – the Malfoy heir was seated with his parents in the sunny breakfast room; enjoying a meal of Draco's favourite breakfast dishes, as this was the last time they would be eating together for several weeks. Conversation was sparse, but no awkwardness or tension hung in the air; they were simply a family that saw no need for pointless chit chat, happy to sit with each other in a comfortable silence; and basking in the time spent together as a single family unit. Narcissa smiled pleasantly as she sipped her milky coffee and Lucius drank his ludicrously strong tea with the manner and posture of a man whose strength and pride never deserted him. Although not free from the allegations and judgements of the wizarding population as a whole; they were free from the terror and obligations they felt that kept them imprisoned, not only in their home, but in their very characters; they no longer had to act a certain way because it was what they had always done and any change in their behaviour may arouse false suspicions or lead to someone questioning their loyalty. Now, as Malfoys they were free to be who they wanted, free to be a _Malfoy_ – and not a servant to the Dark Lord.

Draco admired his father's resolve. Sat before him, was the man he'd learned all his beliefs from, looked up to and idolised as a child. Lucius commanded respect and had an air of dignity and pride about him that the younger Malfoy had rarely seen waver, and then only in extreme circumstances. Now, everything his father had worked for; the credibility of their family name, their reputation, their _fortune, _even Lucius' whole belief system of a pure-blood only wizarding society was either being questioned, or had crumbled. And yet, here the older man sat – proved wrong on several occasions, humiliated often and stripped of many of his titles, ordered to pay reparations for the war and under house arrest. But still, he had that same strong, unwavering aura surrounding him; and he remained as proud as ever. The Malfoys would not be broken; they would rebuild. Draco had never felt so much pride from belonging to the Malfoy family. They had survived; and would continue to do so.

After breakfast was over; the house elves brought Draco's trunk down the many stairs and Narcissa and her son bid goodbye to his father, exchanging meaningful looks and gestures and finally apparated to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

* * *

If you have stuck so far with this story throughout my promises of weekly updates and then going for months without anything new; I applaude you, I really do. I'm really sorry for the lack of updates for this; my writing muse ran away from me. It's VERY slowly returning so hopefully I'll be able to get another chapter to you all within a couple of months. I'm not going to say I'll be handing out weekly chapters anymore because... well, it's not true and you all know it. Updates will arrive when I write them. I'm sorry I can't promise exact dates and times, but if any of you have imaginations that you can predict then you're very lucky indeed :P I hope you're still enjoying my story; Harry and Draco will be reunited eventually I promise! =D

Thankyou to EVERYBODY who reviewed, although I haven't replied to each and every one; they ALL mean something to me so I'd love it if you could keep reviewing ;)


End file.
